Christmas Is All in the Heart
by encantadaa
Summary: Newlyweds Rick and Kate Rodgers are celebrating their first Christmas together. Rick is determined to make it special for his wife, despite their financial troubles. An entry for the Castle Winter Ficathon 2015.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's note:_** _This story is veeeeery AU. I've lowered the age gap between them to where Rick is only two years older than Kate, but otherwise, they're the same people- just navigating through life together as newlyweds, married the summer after Kate graduated from college._

* * *

 _In a one bedroom apartment on the humble side of town_

 _There stands a little Christmas tree- looks a lot like Charlie Brown's_

 _And underneath, there's one little gift for him, and one little gift for her_

 _After six months on the new job, they're still barely getting by_

 _So in the way of decorations, there's nothing there to catch your eye_

 _But both of them would be the first to say,_

 _"We're together; we're going to have the merriest Christmas anyway"_

 _'Cause Christmas is all in the heart_

 ** _-"Christmas Is All in the Heart" by Steven Curtis Chapman_**

* * *

It's their first Christmas together as a married couple, and they can't even afford to buy a tree.

It's disappointing, but they'd agreed that it was the best decision financially not to have one. Trying to make the best of it, Kate had even drawn a childlike picture of an evergreen on a loose sheet of paper and tacked it to the living room wall, declaring it to be their first tree.

But even though they can't have one in their apartment, there's nothing stopping them from simply admiring one. There's no harm in leading his wife through a Christmas tree lot this evening.

"Come on, Rick. Can't I have a small hint about where we're going?" Kate asks as they walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

"Absolutely not. It's a surprise," he says with a grin, squeezing her hand.

A cold burst of wind rushes at them, and she shivers, raising her free hand to her face to protect her eyes from the arctic blast. It's only the first of December, but it's dreadfully cold, and their worn coats and thin gloves don't offer enough protection from the icy temperatures. They both could use a new coat, along with new gloves, warm socks without holes, and thick scarves. But they're paying tuition for the police academy for Kate, as well as starting to pay off her student loans from the pre-law degree she'd completed seven months ago. And they have to pay rent on their apartment on top of that, too.

It would be manageable if Rick had a full-time job, but he'd only taken on part-time work at a local bookstore to allow him ample time to write. They were hoping that he'd be a published author by now, but his manuscripts have been turned down by more publishers than he can count. He'll never admit it to Kate, but he is starting to lose hope of ever being a full-time author.

None of that matters now, though. It's his first Christmas with his wife, and he's determined to make it special for both of them, no matter how poor they may be.

He wraps his arm around Kate's shoulders, pulling her into his side. She's so tiny against him, and he can feel her shivering as they walk.

"Please tell me this is an indoor activity," she murmurs, her teeth chattering.

"Not quite," Rick answers, steering her down another street. He can just see the entrance to the tree lot, a few yards away on the right. steering her toward the entrance to the tree lot. "But we're almost there!"

He points to the large red banner hung over the entrance to the lot, and his wife pulls away from him and takes a step forward, her eyes widening as she takes in the large, roped-off area, filled with evergreens of all shapes and sizes. After a beat of silence, she turns back to face him, her mouth set in a grim line. "A Christmas tree farm? Rick, we can't…"

"I know," he interrupts. "But that doesn't mean we can't walk around and look."

She stares at him for just a moment before her eyes spark with glee, and she grins, grabbing his gloved hand. "Come on," she urges, tugging him forward. "Let's go exploring."

They wander through the lot for fifteen minutes, marveling at the tallest of the trees, laughing at the short, squatty ones, and breathing in the scent of the fresh pine. The smell brings back a flood of happy memories of Christmases past. As they walk, they discuss decorating possibilities for each tree, mentally clothing each one in a blanket of lights, with tinsel and ornaments of all colors adding a unique flair.

"I think we missed our calling," Rick laughs, watching his breath cloud as soon as it hits the air. "We should be professional Christmas tree decorators."

"I hear there's a huge market for that," Kate nods, as seriously as she can muster. "Let's start applying for… oh my Lord, that tree is pathetic."

She's looking off to their right, and he follows her gaze, finally spotting the tree she's staring at. Pathetic is certainly a good word for it. The tree can't be more than three feet tall, and it's tilting to the right, its uppermost branches curved to make it look more like a weeping willow than a sturdy pine. Half of its branches are bare, the others sparsely covered with needles in varying shades of green and brown.

"It certainly does have character," Rick says, nodding in approval. "I like it."

"Me, too," she decides, cocking her head to the side as she stares at the tree. "It's kind of cute."

"Let's see how much it is. Sir?" he calls, hurrying toward a nearby worker. "How much for the Charlie Brown tree over there?"

"Rick, we had an agreement. We can't…" Kate grumbles, chasing after him. But he ignores her, pointing out the tiny tree to the man whose red company vest is stretched tightly across his large belly.

"That one?" the man asks incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows and scratching at his chin. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

"Rick-"

"If you want it, you can have it," the man interrupts with a shrug. "No one else is going to want that one. Scrawny little thing, isn't it?"

Rick wants his wife to have happy memories of their first Christmas together; memories of the scent of fresh pine in their living room, decorating together. He wants so badly to be able to provide for her, but can't with his measly salary. And this tree, pathetic as it may be, is the perfect start to their perfect first Christmas together.

"So it's free?" Rick asks, his eyes alit.

"Yep. I'll even chop it down for you, if you want."

"That would be great," Rick nods, smiling.

The man turns around, mumbling under his breath and shaking his head in disbelief, and disappears between the trees.

The moment he's out of sight, Rick claps his hands together, bouncing on his toes in excitement. "Did you hear that, Kate?" he exclaims, turning toward her. "We have a tree!"

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are pursed together as she fights to keep the corners of her mouth from turning upward. The grin wins, though, and within seconds, she's beaming, laughing as he takes her hands in his. They jump up and down together, squealing in their excitement.

Rick and Kate Rodgers have their first tree.

* * *

An hour later, they arrive home, arms sore from carrying the tiny tree through the city. They lay it gingerly on its side on the wood floor in the living room, then collapse on the ground.

"Remind me why we thought it was a good idea to live on the fifth floor of a building without an elevator?" Kate asks, breathing heavily.

"Because the bonding time we shared carrying a Christmas tree up five flights of stairs was just too precious to pass up," he says with a grin.

Kate laughs as she pushes herself up and heads toward the small kitchen, a box of instant hot chocolate mix in her hand. They stopped by her parents' house on their way home to pick up a spare tree stand, and Johanna had insisted that they stay for a little while, sending them out the door twenty minutes later with the box of cocoa. Kate is too proud to ask her parents for financial help, but Jim and Johanna do whatever they can to take care of their daughter and her husband.

While Kate heats a pot of water for the cocoa on their rusty gas stove, Rick fetches the broom and sweeps the dust from the floor in the corner by the window. He thinks it's the perfect place for their tree, and as he carefully places the trunk of the evergreen into the stand, he knows he's made the right choice. The simple red curtains on their window contrast with the deep greens and browns of the tree's needles, and he can just see the nearby park out the window, the streetlights illuminating the branches of the bare oaks that line the park's perimeter.

The planks of the wooden floor creak, and he turns to find Kate walking toward him, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate her hands. She passes one to Rick, and they each take a sip, sighing in contentment as the liquid warms their throats. They generally turn the heater off during the day when no one is home, to save on their energy bill, and they've returned home to frigid temperatures for the past several weeks. The hot chocolate helps to cut the chill in the apartment today, and Rick can feel the warmth spreading through his chest.

"Tree looks good, babe," Kate says, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. Her lips are frosted with cocoa, and she laughs an apology as he scrunches his eyebrows in response, raising his free hand to wipe the wetness from his head. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and they stand in silence for a moment, sipping their hot chocolate as they admire their little tree.

"You've got the ornaments?" he finally asks.

She hums in response, turning to lift a small cardboard box from the card table. Rick had brought it home from his mother's apartment three months ago, when they finally grew tired of eating their meals on the floor. She sets the box at the base of the tree and lifts the flaps, revealing an odd assortment of ornaments in all shapes and sizes. These are the ornaments that Rick and Kate took with them when they moved out of their parents' houses; the ornaments that they made or collected as children. It's through luck that they have a tree to put them on.

Kate begins to sort through the ornaments, shifting hers to the left and his to the right, and he lays a hand atop hers, stopping her.

"They're not just yours or mine anymore, Kate," he says. "They're ours."

She smiles, turning her hand underneath his until their palms meet. "Ours," she echoes, lacing her fingers with his. "I like that word."

"Me, too," he agrees, squeezing her hand gently.

They're silent for a moment, both feeling overwhelmed as they stare at the box of ornaments. Finally, Kate squeezes his hand in return.

"Let's do this," she says.

They decorate the tree together, exchanging stories about individual ornaments as they hang them. Rick hangs an ornament that Kate made in kindergarten- puzzle pieces painted dark green, glued together in the shape of a wreath- on one of the bare branches at the front of the tree. The clothespin reindeer with pipe cleaner antlers Rick made in fourth grade hangs on the side closest to the window. They quibble playfully about whose baseball ornament will make it onto the tree- the Mets ornament Kate's father gave her when she was twelve, or the Yankees ornament Rick's grandfather gave him when he was seven. They finally settle for hanging both from the uppermost branch of the tree in lieu of a star, allowing the baseball ornaments to frame their masterpiece.

Finally, the ornament box is empty, and they take a step back, admiring their work. They stare at it for a moment, tilting their heads to the side in tandem as they study their handiwork. After a moment, he turns to face her, and the moment their eyes meet, they burst into laughter.

"Ornaments didn't help one bit," Kate manages between giggles. "This tree is still pathetic."

Rick can't help but agree. By anyone else's standards, the tree isn't much to look at. They were hoping that the addition of ornaments would fill in the gaps created by the bare branches, but the ornaments have the opposite effect, only making the sparse branches of the tree even more obvious. They don't even have any lights on it. It's a three feet cacophonous mess, but he loves it.

"I agree. But you know what? It's perfect. These ornaments," he says, gesturing to the tree, "paint the stories of our individual lives, up until this point. And every year before this, they've gone on our parents' Christmas tree, or on our own individual tree. But now, they're part of a new story- our story."

Kate purses her lips together, a sly grin on her face. "That was cheesy," she says, looking up at him. "But you're right. It's… _us_. And it's perfect."

"I'm just so glad we are able to have a tree," he says, pressing his lips together. "I feel so guilty that I'm not able to provide for you more than I do, and…"

"Rick. Stop it," Kate interrupts, taking his hands in hers. "This Christmas would be perfect whether or not we had a tree- because we have each other. I don't need a tree and decorations to be happy. I just need you."

He smiles, giving his wife's hands a gentle squeeze. She's so patient and content, despite their monetary difficulties. "I love you, Mrs. Rodgers."

"I love you, Mr. Rodgers," she echoes.

She raises herself up on her tiptoes and leans forward, reaching for him without a word. Rick pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her, keeping her close as their breathing slows. His lips touch her forehead before seeking her mouth, and the moment his lips brush hers, she pulls back a hair.

"You know what we need?" she murmurs, looking up at him. "Our own ornament. For our first Christmas together."

He laughs, pulling away from her. "I agree."

Twenty minutes later, they hang their newest ornament on the tree. It's a spare bit of cardboard, cut into a crude circle the size of Rick's fist, the words "Our First Christmas, 2003" written in black Sharpie circling the perimeter of the front. In the center of the circle, Kate drew a tiny tree, her best rendition of the one sitting in their living room.

They sit on the floor a few feet away from the tree, and she cuddles into his side, resting her head on his shoulder, as they admire their handiwork once more. Their tree may be pitiful, but it's _theirs_.

Their first Christmas together is going to be wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

She'd been in bed since eleven, but it feels as though her head only hit the pillow moments ago when Kate is roused out of a deep sleep by a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles against her t-shirt.

"Good morning, Kate," her husband whispers. "Wake up. I made coffee."

She opens her eyes a crack, expecting to be assaulted by a stream of bright sunlight. Instead, she's met with the darkness of the middle of the night, the dim glow of the moon shining through the open curtains of their bedroom window.

"What time is it?" she murmurs, a yawn punctuating the end of her sentence.

"Five thirty AM."

"Rick…" she sighs, opening her eyes wider. "It's Saturday. I don't have to work until this afternoon. Why are you waking me up so early?"

"I have a surprise for you," he answers. She can just see the outline of his face in the darkness, and he smiles, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He is _way_ too cheery this early in the morning.

When she tells him so, he simply smiles. "You, too, could be this happy. All it takes is some coffee. And one of the perks of having a studio apartment is that the kitchen, and therefore the coffee, is just a few feet away."

Rick kisses her forehead, then straightens, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet as he walks toward the kitchen area. "Come on, Mrs. Rodgers. Up and at 'em," he calls.

 _Nothing good happens before six AM_. That's Kate's motto, anyway, and she's tempted to ignore her husband's wake-up call and cuddle back under the covers, waiting until a decent hour to get out of bed. Then again, the last time he had a surprise for her, it turned out better than she could have imagined. She should give this one a chance, too.

With a yawn, Kate peels back the blankets, shivering at the chill in the air and balking completely when her bare feet hit the cold floor. They've had the heat on since they arrived home last night, Christmas tree in tow, but they don't have a bed frame, so the cold from the hardwood floor creeps up through their mattress while they sleep. The anticipation her feet touching the cold wooden planks is enough to make Kate dread getting out of bed every morning.

She slips on a pair of socks and pulls a sweater over her head before she shuffles into the kitchen, still shivering. Rick wastes no time in handing her a steaming mug, and she mumbles her thanks, sitting in one of the folding chairs at the card table as she takes her first sip. The coffee tastes different today- much different- but it's delicious. She takes another sip, trying to place the new flavor.

"I added some hot chocolate mix," Rick says, sitting beside her at the table. "So we're having homemade mochas."

"Babe, it's really good, but you seriously woke me up at five thirty on a Saturday for this?"

He laughs. "Of course not. The coffee is just an added bonus."

"Okay, good," Kate murmurs, taking another sip from her mug. "Because I thought I was going to have to go check out my training weapon from the academy and shoot you with it."

"Well, that would certainly put you on the naughty list," he remarks, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"You're already on the naughty list for waking me up so early," Kate retorts.

"Touché."

A comfortable silence settles between them as they drink their coffee. Kate's not much of a talker in the mornings- not until she's had at least one cup of coffee- and Rick has come to respect that, giving her the space and silence she needs to start her day. It's one of the things she loves about him- he's so attentive; able to figure out just what she needs without asking.

Eventually, he stands, pouring each of them a bowl of off-brand Lucky Charms. The cereal isn't Kate's choice- she prefers normal, _adult_ cereal, like Chex- but it was his turn to choose the last time they went grocery shopping. At least it wasn't Reese's Puffs this time. She can pick out the marshmallows in the Lucky Charms if she doesn't want them- her husband will gladly eat them for her- but there's no way to avoid the sugary sweetness of Reese's Puffs.

The moment she's finished her cereal, Rick whisks her bowl and spoon away, sending her off to get dressed, still refusing to tell her where he's taking her.

"But I don't know how to dress," Kate says in an attempt to wheedle some information out of her husband. "I don't know if I need to bundle up, or dress for a formal event, or…"

"Dress casual, but warm," Rick says, his eyes twinkling. "I know what you're doing. Nice try."

She sticks her tongue out at him in a playful gesture, then disappears into the bathroom as he cleans up their breakfast dishes. Once Kate is dressed and ready, they put on their coats and gloves. Rick turns the heater off while Kate fills their matching travel mugs with coffee, and they step out into the hallway together, locking the front door behind them. It's just after six forty-five when they step outside, icy temperatures and a cold wind greeting them.

"Please tell me we aren't walking the whole way there," Kate says, her teeth chattering after walking just a few feet.

Her husband wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side to share his body heat as he steers her down the sidewalk. "Nope. Subway," he says. "It's not too easy to walk to Midtown from Queens, anyway."

"Midtown?" she asks. "Why are we going to Manhattan?"

"Because that's where the surprise is, of course," he answers, grinning.

She rolls her eyes, sighing, and they settle into a comfortable silence as they walk the two blocks to the subway station, watching as the rising sun begins to streak shades of orange and pink across the sky. A few other people are out this early, but the sidewalk isn't very crowded. The subway station isn't, either, and they're able to duck into the waiting car and find seats quickly, settling down for the twenty-five minute ride to Manhattan.

Much to her annoyance, he won't even tell her which stop is theirs. She huffs and shifts her body towards the window, forcing herself to keep her eyes away from her husband. Kate likes control; she likes having a plan, and her husband knows that complete spontaneity drives her insane- _especially_ when it involves her having to wake up at a ridiculously early hour. It's sweet, though, what he's doing, so she tries to temper her frustration.

He lets her sulk for a few minutes, silently taking sips of his coffee while she studies his reflection in the window of their subway car. He's so patient with her, always doing whatever he can to bring her joy, and a wave of guilt washes over her as she realizes how she's treating him.

"I'm sorry I'm grumpy," she says with a sigh, turning back towards him. "I'm just tired."

Rick offers a reassuring smile, moving his free hand to rest on her knee. "Remember when we bought these?"

He's nodding toward her travel cup, and she nods in return, smiling. "I can't believe it's been three years."

They'd only been dating for a month when they exchanged their first Christmas gifts, laughing when they realized they'd bought each other the exact same present: a tall travel mug in light blue, hers with a large cursive K, and his with an R.

"I think that's when I realized that you were the girl for me," Rick says, leaning towards her. "I'd never met anyone so completely in sync with me."

"You'd never met anyone whose love of coffee rivaled yours, either," she jokes, elbowing his side playfully.

"I still haven't forgiven you for getting the last of the mocha the day we met," he says, grinning. "There I was at the campus coffee shop, waiting in line for coffee behind this very tall girl with beautiful hair, and she orders a mocha. When I get up to the counter, I order the same thing, only to be told by the barista that the young lady in front of me had gotten the last of the mocha sauce. They were completely out. And did you share?"

"Of course not," Kate answers, quirking an eyebrow. "But I did buy you coffee the next day, remember? I atoned for my mistake."

"You did," Rick confirms. "And I've never let you buy the coffee ever since. So I suppose you are forgiven."

She picks his hand up from her knee and laces her fingers through his. "We're going to grow old together, Rick. And we're going to tell the story of how we met to our kids someday."

His face falls when she mentions children, and a wave of guilt washes over her. They avoid talking about children as an unspoken rule; they both want a baby, want to be parents, but know they can't support a child in their current financial situation. They've agreed that they won't start trying until Rick has a full-time job, be it as a published author or in another field, but that doesn't necessarily stop them from longing for what they can't have now.

"Babe, I'm sorry," she breathes, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"No, Kate. Don't be," he says, raising his head. "We shouldn't avoid talking about it, just because it makes us sad. Because it won't be like this forever… we're going to make it out of this. We're going to get our happy ending."

There he goes again, expressing guilt over their current situation and promising that it will be "better" someday. She hates it when he does this; hates it when he places the blame on himself for the way they're living, as though they have something to be ashamed of.

"Rick." She turns to face him, fixing him with a firm look. "We don't have to have a nice apartment, or good jobs, or anything like that to have a happy ending. I got my happy ending when I married you. And the rest of it can only get better from here."

He smiles, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. "And that's why I married you," he murmurs.

Kate raises her fingers to his cheek, cupping his face in her hand, and leans in toward him. Their noses bump awkwardly, and she giggles as their bodies rock together with the movement of the train. Just as their lips touch, the intercom announces the stop at the Herald Square station, and he starts and pulls away, his eyes wide.

"This is our stop!" he says, standing as the train begins to slow. "Come on, Kate." He holds out a hand to help her up, and she takes it, allowing him to steady her as the car sways to a stop.

They exit the subway car and push their way through the crowd of people waiting on the platform, climbing the stairs up to the outside world. The sun is high in the sky now, illuminating the Manhattan skyline, and Kate blinks, smiling. She's always loved Manhattan. There's a beauty in the chaos; in the rows of tall buildings, crowds of people bustling around, even in the pigeons that are constantly in the way. It's home, where she grew up, and someday, she and Rick will live here, too.

The Empire State Building is only a block away, but he grabs her hand and tugs her in the opposite direction, pulling her through the crowd. He stops when they reach the front windows of Macy's, and they stand still for a moment, marveling at the elaborate display behind the glass. This window displays a snowy cityscape, similar to New York itself, where Santa's sleigh has landed atop one of the buildings, the hooves of his eight reindeer prancing.

"Are we going to look at all of the windows?" Kate asks, turning towards Rick.

"We will on our way back, if you want to," he answers with a smile. "But right now, we're going inside."

"Are we shopping?"

"No," he laughs, tugging her toward the front doors. "We're going to see Santa."

She suddenly understands why he woke her up so early - the Macy's Santaland experience is renowned as one of the best in the country, and the line often gets long, causing a wait that can last over an hour. He wants to beat the crowd by getting there the moment they open.

Her husband is taking her to see Santa Claus, and judging by the look on his face, he's as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

And if she's being honest with herself, she's every bit as excited as he is.

They giggle as they make their way up to the eighth floor, and their eyes light up as they take in the elaborate snowy winter wonderland that awaits them when they arrive,. A candy cane archway even welcomes them to Santaland.

" _Every step you_ _take is a step closer to Santa_ ," Rick reads from the sign hanging at the entrance.

"Come on," Kate says with a smile, pulling him down the carpeted walkway.

A few families are waiting in line in front of them, but they're only in line for fifteen minutes before they reach Santa. The moment the worker elf ushers them toward Santa, Rick runs to the older man, immediately sitting in his lap. Kate opens her mouth, preparing to scold him, but Santa laughs, gesturing for Kate to join them. Soon they're both sitting on Santa's lap, each perched on one of the man's knees.

Santa ignores the fact that they're both grownups and asks their names after they have their picture taken, acting genuinely interested in them. When he asks what they want for Christmas, they both pause, and Kate's breath hitches in her throat.

She knows exactly what she wants for Christmas, but it would require a miracle, at best. Because of that, it's something she won't wish for aloud; won't wish for where Rick can hear her.

Kate gestures for her husband to plug his ears, leaning close enough for the wiry hairs of Santa's beard to tickle her cheek when Rick obeys. "I want my husband to be an author," she whispers in the man's ear. "I want him to get a publisher and be an author."

Santa smiles, giving a hearty laugh, and Rick unplugs his ears. "Well, that's quite the wish, my dear," Santa says, his voice deep and gentle.

"I know it would take a miracle, but…"

"Do you believe in miracles, Kate?"

Santa's question catches her off guard, and she pauses, thinking. The older man studies her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses, and she knows that she can't lie to him.

"I don't know," she admits.

"It's Christmas, my dear," Santa says, patting her shoulder. "Believe in the miracle of Christmas. Anything can happen."

It's a cliché sentiment; one that's expressed in the Hallmark Channel movies she and her mom love to marathon and poke fun at every Christmas. But this man is so sincere, and even if it's just for Rick's sake, and for the sake of his dream, she _wants_ to believe. "I'll try," she promises.

"Very good," Santa says, offering a jolly smile.

Rick insists that Kate cover her ears as he makes his wish, too, and Santa's laugh booms this time, garnering the attention of all of the people waiting in line. "Ho ho, my boy," the man says. "I certainly hope your wish comes true. And yours, too, Kate."

They climb off of his lap, and he pulls a card out of his coat pocket, passing it to Kate. "Give this to the elves at the photo desk," he says, his voice quiet so that only they can hear. "Your picture is on me."

He's given them a photo voucher, enabling them to pick up their official photo with Santa for free, and tears spring to Kate's eyes as she offers her genuine thanks to the man.

"Have a very merry Christmas, you two," Santa replies, a twinkle in his eyes. "Believe in the miracle of the season."

Kate squeezes her husband's hand as they leave Santa behind, walking toward the photo desk. "Please tell me that you didn't wish for a free picture," she murmurs.

He laughs, sobering a moment later. "Of course not," Rick answers. "I wished for something even better."

He doesn't elaborate, and she doesn't ask him to. Instead, their wishes will stay a secret for now, in hopes that they'll both get their miracles this Christmas.


	3. Chapter 3

With a bit of careful planning, Rick has dinner ready when Kate walks in from her shift at Starbucks on Sunday night. He had a morning shift at the bookstore, and by the time he got home, she was already at work. They'd been lucky to have most of a Saturday off together, but the majority of their days are like this; between both of their jobs and Kate's classes at the police academy, they often only see each other in the evenings.

"Hey, babe," he greets her, meeting her by the door to kiss her cheek. "How was work?"

"Fine," she answers, giving a noncommittal shrug as she pulls off her gloves, shoving them into her coat pocket. She reaches into the other pocket and pulls out a small package. "I brought coffee."

"Ah, the perks of being married to a Starbucks employee," Rick says with a grin, taking it from her hand so that she can remove her coat.

"You only love me for my coffee," she mock pouts as she kicks off her shoes. "Ahh, that's better."

"No, Kate, I love you for more than just the free coffee you bring us," Rick says, as seriously as he can muster. "I love the leftover cookies you bring home, too."

"Very funny," she answers in a deadpan tone, picking up her shoes and walking across the large room to their closet. "I'm going to change out of my khakis, then we can eat. What did you make?"

"Pancakes and eggs. Want me to start some coffee?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

He laughs, taking the package of coffee she brought to the kitchen area. It's a Holiday blend, and a faint peppermint aroma greets him the moment he opens the bag. He loves it when Kate brings coffee home - she's able to get a pound of whole bean coffee a week for free as a Starbucks employee, so they rarely have to buy coffee from the grocery store. It's one of their biggest blessings- it certainly helps not to have the expense of coffee factored into their weekly budget.

Rick doesn't earn freebies at the bookstore, but he does get a fairly sizeable discount on merchandise, so he comes home every so often with an armful of books for them to add to the large shelf that sits at the foot of their mattress.

Free coffee and cheap books. That's all they need to stay happy.

Well, and each other, of course.

After Rick grinds the beans, he begins to scoop them into the coffeemaker. A second later, Kate shuffles into the room, wearing an oversized NYU t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. She steps behind him as he works and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Smells good," she murmurs, watching him as he spoons the last of the grounds into the machine and shuts the lid, flipping on the percolator. Her stomach grumbles, so loudly that it resonates against his back, and he laughs.

"Go eat, babe," he says, pulling himself out of her arms. "I'll join you when the coffee's ready."

Getting some food in her belly seems to help Kate perk up, because she's more animated than usual as they eat, full of stories from her day at work. "This guy named William came in," she says between mouthfuls of pancakes. "He was wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase, and his hair was all combed back, so I just knew that he was a coffee snob. And I was right. You know what he ordered? A venti skim hazelnut macchiato, extra hot, with sugar-free syrup, an extra shot, no whip- and _upside down_. What the heck is an upside down coffee?"

"You tell me. You're the barista," Rick murmurs, his eyebrows raised.

"I still don't know what it is. My boss had to be the one to make it," Kate says, rolling her eyes. "But this guy just looked at me like I was an idiot when I told him I didn't know what an upside down drink was. Sorry, I'm hogging the conversation," she says with a start, looking up at him.

"No, you're not," Rick assures her. His wife generally isn't this talkative, but he's been enjoying listening to her stories. Allowing her to carry on the conversation is helping him keep his mind off of the frustrations of his day- catching some teenagers trying to shoplift, missing his lunch break as he filled out paperwork on the incident, and the stress of keeping a watchful eye on the mail, always anticipating another rejection letter.

"That's sweet, but I am. I'm done, I promise. How was your day?"

"Not bad," he says. "I got off work at one, then went to the library to write for a couple of hours."

They don't have a home computer, so Rick goes to the library a couple of days a week to type the things that he's written in his notebook throughout the week. He saves all of the files on a floppy disk, which he stores in the pocket of his notebook. It's not an ideal system, but it's the best he can do for now.

"You know, babe, when you get published, we'll spend your first royalty check on a computer," Kate says. "That way, you won't have to go to the library to write."

 _When_ _you get published_. Not if, but when. His wife is so confident in him, never expressing the least bit of doubt in his writing abilities, despite the fact that his manuscript has been turned down by fifteen publishing companies so far.

Kate only knows about fourteen, though. Another rejection letter was waiting on the doorstep when he arrived home today, this one from Clearhouse Publishing. He'd been so positive that he'd get in with them, considering the head of the company is the father of a good friend of his from college. Rick won't tell her about the latest rejection, though- at least not yet. She's in such a good mood tonight, and he doesn't want to ruin it for her.

"Our tree still looks pathetic," she says, interrupting his thoughts. "It needs something."

She's staring across the room at the tree, and he turns his head to follow her gaze. "I think having the picture of us with Santa on the wall right by the tree makes it perfect," he says, turning back to face her.

"It still needs something, though," she says with a sigh. "Like tinsel, or ribbon."

"I have fishing wire," he jokes, and she swats playfully at his arm before swooping his empty plate off the table, piling hers on top of it. On nights he cooks, she cleans, so she heads to the kitchen to get started. She rinses the dishes before plugging the sink and letting it fill with warm water, pouring in a bit of dish soap.

Rick's about to join her at the counter, planning to steal some of the bubbles from the sink to give himself a bubble beard, when he inspiration strikes. He heads to the kitchen cabinets instead, eyes lighting up when sees that they have everything he was hoping to find. It'll be messy, but it could be a fun way to spend the evening.

"Hey, I have an idea," he says, straightening. "I have fishing wire, and we have popcorn and a can of cranberries. You wanna make…"

"A cranberry and popcorn garland! Great idea!" she interrupts, a smile on her face as she turns off the water. "Dishes can wait. Let's do this."

She pops the popcorn and opens the can of cranberries while he pulls the fishing wire out from the miniature toolbox they keep in the cabinet under the sink and looks for a needle. Soon, they're sitting side-by-side on the floor, cross-legged, popcorn and cranberries in bowls in front of them.

"Okay, let's make a game plan," Rick says, suddenly serious. "We have a lot more popcorn than cranberries, so I think we should do four pieces of popcorn per berry. Then, if we run out, we…"

"Rick," Kate interrupts. Her eyebrows are lowered in an attempt to look stern, but her lips purse together as a smile threatens to ruin the illusion. "This isn't science. It's popcorn."

"But-"

"If I wanted exact ratios, I'd go back to Starbucks and make another dozen soy lattes with exactly two and a half pumps of vanilla syrup- no more, no less," she says, giving in to the urge to grin. "Really, my parents and I made these all the time when I was a kid, and they always turned out just fine, without a strategy. It's not like anything else on our tree is perfect, anyway."

"Very true," he laughs, passing her the needle, a long strand of fishing wire strung through it. "So what'll it be first? Popcorn? Cranberry?"

"Surprise me."

He gives her exactly four pieces of popcorn, laughing when she shoots him a glare.

They work in silence for several minutes, concentrating on not poking themselves with the sharp end of the needle in the process. It's not long before their fingers are stained a deep red from the cranberries, and Rick laughs when Kate reaches up to scratch her face, leaving a bright red spot on the tip of her nose.

" _Katie the red-nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose_ ," he begins to sing, knowing how much she hates it when he calls her that.

Sure enough, her reaction is predictable. "Hey, now. Only my father is allowed to call me that-" she pokes a finger against his nose, smiling as she colors it red- " _Ricky_."

He decides to go with it. " _Ricky the red-nosed reindeer,_ " he starts. To his surprise, she sings along with him, her sweet alto blending smoothly with his deep baritone. Kate's shy, self-conscious about her singing, and rarely shows off her voice, even to him. She's happy tonight, in a good mood, and she's letting her hair down, so to speak, not keeping herself as guarded as usual. And he's loving every second of it.

Six carols and lots of giggles later, they string the last piece of popcorn onto their chain. Rick ties off the end with a large knot, and together, they wrap it around the tree, weaving it carefully around the mismatched ornaments. The length of the garland fits the tree perfectly, and Kate smiles as Rick wraps the end of the chain around the uppermost branch of the tree.

"That's exactly what the tree needed," she decides. "It ties everything together so well."

Rick takes a step back and studies the tree. She's right; their new garland has helped to fill in the holes in the tree, making it look fuller. "It looks so festive."

Kate steps toward him and wraps her arms around him, pulling him into her. She waits for him to smile before she presses a gentle kiss to his lips. "I love it," she says, her voice soft. "Thank you for making that with me. And… I'm sorry about Clearhouse."

"I… how did you know?" he stutters, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I found the letter on the bathroom counter," she says. "You didn't exactly hide it."

He sighs. "Kate…"

"Hey, it's okay," she soothes, brushing an errant piece of hair off of his forehead. "So you didn't get in with Clearhouse. It's their loss, babe. And somewhere out there, there's a publishing company that will realize how amazingly talented you are and sign you on."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't think it's going to happen," Rick murmurs. He's been trying to hide this from her all evening, pouring his energy into making her happy while pushing his feelings down, but he can't hide it any longer, allowing his shoulders to slump.

"No, don't think like that. It will happen," she assures him. "I promise. Someday soon, everyone will know the name Rick Rodgers."

"You know, I was thinking," he muses, taking a deep breath and making a decided effort to move on. She has faith in him- unrelenting, unshakeable faith- and he needs to try for her. "If I get published, what if I change my name?"

" _When_ you get published," she corrects, leaning closer to him. "Do you mean a pseudonym?"

"No. I want to write under my real name. I don't want to be a mystery- I want people to know who I am. But Rodgers just isn't interesting enough. It doesn't have enough... mystique."

"Mystique, hmm?" Kate hums, stroking a finger across his cheek. "What are you thinking about changing it to?"

He has ideas- lots of them, in fact. He's been brainstorming for weeks now, and even has a notepad filled with potential new last names. But he's far too distracted by his wife brushing her lips against his cheek and trailing her fingers down his back to even recall just one of those at the moment.

"Mmm, Kate," he breathes, palming her hips and pulling her closer. "Haven't thought of anything good. Let's sleep on it."

"Together?" she murmurs.

"Absolutely."

He presses his lips against hers, and she pulls away after a moment, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the mattress on the floor. They falter when there's a sudden clattering on the floor, and he looks down to see that Kate accidentally kicked the popcorn bowl, sending stray kernels rolling across the wooden planks.

"Should we clean first?" she asks, nearly breathless.

His response is to cup her face in his hands and kiss her again, pulling her in until her hips bump against his.

Dishes can wait.


	4. Chapter 4

If Kate's being truly honest with herself, the police academy really isn't much fun. She comes home mentally and physically exhausted every evening after a long day of having orders barked at her from superior officers, taking notes in lectures, and a host of physical activities.

Kate doesn't regret choosing police academy over law school, though. All of her instructors in college said that she was one of their most promising pre-law students, and that she wouldn't have any problems getting into law school, but it was only after she took the LSAT that Kate realized she didn't want to attend law school. She didn't want to spend another several years sitting behind a desk, studying and taking tests, then spend the rest of her life behind a desk doing paperwork more often than not. She'd rather have a job that's unpredictable; one where she can be actively helping people, making a difference in her community.

So, after talking with her then-fiancé and her parents, Kate made the decision to apply for the NYPD police academy. After a battery of physical and academic qualifying tests, she was accepted into the program.

There's only one plus about law school that she can think of- the instructors would have been much nicer there than they are at the academy. Today, for example, one of her fellow recruits made the mistake of leaving his cell phone turned on in his bag. The tinny melody of the Nokia ringtone blared like a foghorn in the stillness of the law exam they were taking. Everyone in the room had to perform two hundred pushups to atone for their classmate's error.

She's the only female in her class, and the instructors don't cut her any slack because of that. Kate keeps up with the boys easily, though- in fact, she's ahead of almost all of them in both academics and fitness requirements. Even so, it sometimes feels like a scene straight out of Mulan, where the training officers are screaming "I'll make a man out of you!" to a room full of men who are struggling to keep up, with a lone woman struggling just to fit in.

Each day, she leaves the academy sore and achy- not to mention mentally drained- but instead of going home and vegging for the rest of the evening, Kate heads straight to work, changing out of her uniform and into her Starbucks apron before she even leaves the academy. She'll have to quit her job at Starbucks once she graduates from the academy just after the new year, and in a way, she can't wait. She'll work full time on the police force, and won't need the second job to supplement their income.

Until that day comes, though, Kate's stuck in this routine of fifteen-hour days and very little time spent with her husband.

After five consecutive days of an intense physical regimen, climbing up the stairs to her fifth floor apartment is even more arduous than usual and she moves slowly, her calf muscles protesting with each step. She wants nothing more than to soak in a hot bath and not move for the rest of the evening.

Too bad their tiny bathroom lacks a full tub.

Kate spots her husband as soon as she steps into their studio apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. They don't have a sofa, so he's lounging on their bed with his shoes kicked off, a book in his hands.

"Hey, Kate," he greets, snapping the book closed. "How was your day?"

"Exhausting," she says with a slow exhale, crossing the room to move toward him.

"Did your test go well?"

"Yeah. I almost mixed up second degree and third degree assault, but luckily, I caught myself." Kate kicks off her shoes when she reaches the mattress, flopping down onto it with a sigh of content. "Mmm, I don't ever want to get up."

His hands move to her shoulders, ready to massage away the tension. When his thumbs find sore spots, she groans, tensing slightly as he works out the knots.

"Does that hurt?" he asks, lightening his touch.

"It's a good hurt," she murmurs, closing her eyes. "Keep going."

She doesn't even realize she's fallen asleep until she's awoken by a loud sneeze from her husband, still laying next to her on the mattress. "Gesundheit," she murmurs, peeling her eyes open. "How long was I asleep?"

"About thirty minutes, I think," Rick says, sniffling. "Sorry I woke you. You hungry?"

"Not really. But I could use some coffee," Kate says with a yawn, stretching her arms out in front of her as she sits up. The unintentional nap was good for her- she feels refreshed now, ready to enjoy the evening with her husband.

"Coffee sounds great," Rick says, kissing Kate on the cheek before he slides off the mattress, his back cracking as he stretches.

Kate changes clothes and scrubs her makeup off while he makes the coffee, and when she joins him at the counter, he has a mug ready for her. She smiles as she takes it from him, humming her thanks as she takes the first sip. Turning around, she takes a step toward the table to sit down, only to hesitate when she spots the large red box sitting on top of it.

"Rick, why do you have a gingerbread house kit?" she asks, turning back to face him.

"Oh, I won it!" he exclaims, his chest puffing out with pride. "At the Christmas party at work tonight. They gave away door prizes, and they drew me for this one."

"Wow, I haven't done a gingerbread house in years," Kate says, walking the rest of the way to the table. "I think I was nine or ten the last time I made one."

"Let's do it now, then!" he says. "Unless you don't want to spend your Friday night on a gingerbread house."

His tone is casual, but he's looking at her with concern, the spark of elation that was in his eyes seconds ago now dim. He wants to build the gingerbread house tonight, but, as usual, is trying to put his wife's needs before his own.

She really couldn't have married a better man.

"This is the perfect way to spend a Friday night," she answers, grinning as the childlike glee returns to his eyes.

They unpack the box, setting bags of various candies aside and separating the large gingerbread pieces that form the walls and the roof. Kate fetches a knife for each of them, so that they can spread icing along the edges of the wall pieces, and they both take two walls and get started.

"So I've been doing some reading this week, to see if I can find any inspiration for a potential name change," Rick starts as he frosts his portion of the gingerbread wall. "After doing some research, I'm thinking about Rook- like the chess piece. It would keep the alliteration, too. Richard Rook."

Kate wrinkles her nose. "But… Rick Rook?"

"Oh," he says, eyes widening in realization. "I didn't think about that."

"Clearly." She shakes her head slowly, grinning. "I'm going to start calling you that now. Rick Rook."

"Rick Rock?" he counters, eyebrows raised in a playful gesture.

"Rick Rack," she says with a nod. "Rick Ruck...us," she trails off, laughing at how awkward it sounds outside of her head.

Her husband loves to play with words like this- changing vowel and consonant sounds ever so slightly to make new words- and she's come to appreciate the game, matching him word for word and giving as good as she gets.

He pauses for a moment, and she thinks she has him beat until a sly grin appears on his face. "Two words," he says, nodding.

She squeezes her eyes shut. "Damn it."

This is another of Rick's favorite games. Upon the declaration of "two words," they can only speak in two-word sentences for the rest of the evening. Whoever slips up first loses, and the game is over. Kate doesn't enjoy this game as much, but she'll indulge him tonight and play along.

"Yours ready?" he asks, nodding to the iced gingerbread walls in her hands.

"It is. Let's assemble."

They piece the four walls together atop the cardboard base, high-fiving each other when the structure stays standing after they let go. The slanted roof pieces go on next, and they carefully place them on the tops of the walls, using a thick coating of icing to glue the gingerbread roof to the house.

"Nice job," Rick says, admiring the completed structure.

"It's… bare," Kate replies, gesturing to the pile of unused candies on the table. "Not finished."

"Let's decorate! Problem solved," he replies, tossing her a bag of candy to open.

They tag team the decorations, with Kate in charge of the roof and Rick in charge of the main house. She spreads thin rows of icing across the gingerbread slants and places tiny multicolored candies evenly across them while Rick outlines the doors and windows in white icing, adding bits of candy holly to the corners. Together, they attach evergreen gumdrop bushes to the front of the house and create a peppermint walkway to the path, adding colored candies around the windows to look like strands of Christmas lights.

After Kate adds the last bit of candy around the arched doorway, Rick stares at the tiny house, a grin on his face. "Looks good. Let's eat!" He lunges toward the rooftop, his fingers pinching the edge of one of the sloped pieces of the gingerbread roof, and Kate grabs his arm and pulls it back.

"Just kidding! Wasn't- ow! Apples! Apples!" he cries out with an exaggerated wince as Kate gives his wrist the tiniest of twists.

She releases him at his safe word, and a mischievous grin makes its way onto her face. She looks at him, quirking an eyebrow. "You lose."

"No I didn't! I said… oh." His shoulders slump in defeat. "That's not fair."

"Hey, you're the one who was about to tear apart the beautiful gingerbread house we just built. I was only stopping you."

"No, you cheated," he decides. "I declare a rematch. Two words, in bed."

"How about no," Kate says, her jaw coming unhinged with a yawn on the last word. "But I like the 'in bed' part." Whatever reserves of energy she built up with the nap have been depleted, and she feels the weight of exhaustion again, her muscles beginning to ache with it.

"Okay, sleepyhead," Rick laughs, standing. He offers her his hand, and she takes it, swaying into him after he helps her up. "Let's go to bed."


	5. Chapter 5

"Rick. Wake up."

The soft whisper, accompanied by a hand on his shoulder, pulls Rick out of a deep sleep, and he peels his eyes open slowly, finding Kate crouched by his side.

"Whassa matter?" he slurs, worried by the intensity in her voice.

Her laugh is soft, but when she speaks again, her voice almost booms in the stillness of the room. "It's snowing! Let's go for a run"

"Kaaaate," he groans, turning his back to her as he rolls over. "Those two sentences should never go together. Ever. Go back to sleep."

"I can't," she sighs, flopping down onto the mattress beside him. "I'm already awake. And it's _snowing._ I'm too excited to sleep."

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. For as serious as his wife is, when something makes her giddy, there's no stopping her. Rick knows her well enough by now to know that the first snow of the season always brings out her inner child.

"Come on, Rick," Kate says, tracing two fingers in a pattern on his back. "I have to run this morning, anyway. I skipped last Saturday, and you know how much I regretted it on Monday."

That much was true; she'd come home on Monday insisting that it was a terrible idea to skip workouts. She'd felt slow and off the pace during her run in gym, and had woken up Tuesday morning feeling stiff. much more sore and achy than usual. Since then, she'd vowed not to miss a day of exercising, even on days she didn't have class.

"So go run, then," he mumbles. "I'm not gonna stop you."

"No, come with me!" she begs, gently shaking his shoulder. "We could run around the block a couple of times, then stop at the park and play in the snow. Maybe build a snowman."

She falls silent with the suggestion, but Rick knows better than to think that she's going to drop the subject. Kate is stubborn, and knowing her, she won't let this one go until he agrees to go with her.

 _Maybe a run in the snow won't be so bad_ , he decides. Time with his wife is precious, and he'll take it any way he can get it- even if it means waking up early to exercise in the cold. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he's run with her, and even though he isn't much of a runner, he likes being out there with her, doing his best to keep up.

He's about to give in and say he'll join her on her run when she speaks up again. "I love the first snow of the season," she says, a dreamy quality to her voice. "I know, you can call me Lorelai Gilmore… but it just takes me back to my childhood, and spending time at the cabin in the woods with my parents. It was just so beautiful to watch the world turn white, then go out and play in the fresh powder, maybe build a snowman…"

This is the second time she's brought up the snowman. She's dropping some not-so-subtle hints, and Rick chuckles as he rolls over, turning to face her. "Kate, do you want to build a snowman?"

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. "Yes!" she exclaims, a bit too hastily. A sheepish grin makes its way onto her face, and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her nose.

"Okay, I'll go with you. But coffee first," he says, yawning.

She rolls off the mattress, holding out her hand to help him up. "Already made."

They eat a light breakfast, then bundle up, heading down the stairs and out into the cold. Large flakes of snow are falling from the sky. It's been so cold the past couple of weeks that it's sticking to the ground easily; about an inch has already built up. The sky is grey and cloudy, and the rooftops are dusted with white. It's picturesque, he has to admit, and he's glad he woke up early to see it.

It reminds him of the day that he proposed to Kate. It was Christmas Eve of last year, and he'd taken her on a snowy ride in a horse-drawn carriage through Central Park. He hadn't specially arranged for the ride- those happened all the time in the park- but he'd made a plan with the driver before the ride, unbeknownst to Kate. As they'd crossed Gapstow Bridge over The Pond, the driver had stopped the horses, and Rick jumped out, getting down on one knee with Kate still in the carriage. The snow had been falling, accumulating atop the stony surface of the bridge, as he slipped the ring onto her finger, and the setting for their engagement couldn't have been any more perfect.

Standing here now, watching Kate with her head tilted back, smiling as the flakes fall on her face, he knows that she's thinking about that moment, too; she'll probably think of it every time it snows. He's proud to have given her that association- nothing makes him happier than bringing joy to his wife.

After a moment, her face sombers, and she turns her head to look at him. "You know, this is one of the last times I'll be able to really enjoy the snow," she says. "Once I'm on the police force, snow will just complicate things. Make it harder to be out and about; make it easier for people to get away because the snow will cover their tracks."

He takes her gloved hand in his. "Let's make the run quick, then- maybe only two laps around the block- and then we can go to the park and play in the snow until we can't stand the cold anymore."

She grins. "Good plan."

Kate's much more in shape than he is, and Rick is out of breath by the time they arrive at the park two laps later. She passes him a bottle of water, smiling as she breathes without laboring. She's always been fit, but there's no doubt in his mind that her training at the police academy has only helped her get into even better shape.

"Come on," she grins, tugging on his hand. "Let's build a snowman."

"Let me sit for just five minutes first," he wheezes. "Then snowman."

"Oh, fine," she acquiesces, following him to a nearby bench. "Wimp."

She's grinning in spite of the tease, and he elbows her playfully in the ribs, laughing as she bumps into his shoulder in return.

The park isn't very crowded this morning, and they keep their eyes on a small group of children as they rest on the bench. The kids are bundled up, the older three helping the youngest- who can't be much older than two- make a snowball. It's sweet, how they're all working together to help the little one, and Rick feels a pang of longing shoot through his heart. He wants this so badly; wants a family with Kate, and the Christmas season is only making those feelings stronger.

"We're gonna have that someday," Kate murmurs. She must be thinking about it, too, and he gives her hand a gentle squeeze, offering her a smile.

"You ready?" he asks, nodding toward the snow. He's deliberately changing the subject- he doesn't want to dwell on what they don't have when they could be choosing to build their snowman instead.

She nods, and they stand together, walking hand-in-hand across the park to an open space near some trees. Kate crouches down, tracing two fingers through the snow, and sighs. "It's barely an inch deep," she says. "We can't make a snowman out of this."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Rick says, kneeling beside her. "We can make a tiny snowman. In fact, we can make a tiny snowman army."

"An army, huh?" she says, her eyes beginning to twinkle. "Do we have to share an army, or do I get my own?"

"Are you kidding? We each make an army," he says, raising his eyebrows playfully. "Two tiny snowman armies. And then, we fight to the death."

She laughs. "And how exactly do you propose our armies fight?"

"No questions," he dismisses her, scooping up a handful of snow. "Start preparing your troops."

Thirty minutes later, the snow has stopped falling, and they've built about forty tiny snowmen apiece, each one no taller than two inches. Each army is clustered together, and Rick has drawn a line in the snow to separate the two groups.

"And now for battle," he declares, deepening his voice. "Captain, are your troops prepared?"

"I, uh… I hope so?" Kate says hesitantly, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm still not exactly sure what this battle is."

He grabs a small rock, grinning as he holds it up. "Snowman bowling. First person to decimate the other's army is the winner."

Kate laughs, a smile brightening her face. "And what prize does the winner get?"

"That is yet to be decided," he says. "But we can talk about it later. Now, we begin."

Rick passes her the rock, allowing her to have the first toss. He regrets the decision when her first throw knocks down three of his snowmen. He offers her his best pout, and she smirks, raising her eyebrows in a silent challenge.

Within minutes, all of Rick's snowmen have been flattened, and two of Kate's are still standing. "Looks like my army came out victorious," she teases, her voice playful and light.

"Only because I let you win," Rick counters. That's far from the truth- he should have known his wife would beat him- but he'll use that excuse anyway. He even adopts his best puppy-dog eyes for added effect.

"Yeah, right," she laughs, shivering as she stands. "Let's go home. I'm cold, and I want a hot shower. We can have some coffee and discuss that prize you were talking about earlier."

Rick puts his hands on her waist, pulling her into him. "You know, we could save water if we shower together," he says, his voice low.

"Mmm, good idea" she hums, cupping his face in her hands and kissing his nose. She pulls back immediately, a look of surprise on her face. "Wow, your nose is cold."

He grins, dropping his hands from her waist to grab her gloved fingers. "Let's go home and warm up."

They walk hand-in-hand to the edge of the park. The moment they leave the grassy area and step onto the sidewalk, Kate drops his hand, a sly grin on her face.

"Race you back," she says with a playful raise of her eyebrows, only lingering for a second before she takes off running toward their apartment.

Rick's about to make a comment about the unfairness of the situation when he realizes that she's too far ahead to possibly hear him. With a slow shake of his head, he begins to jog after her. She'll reach their home before he does, of course- she got a good head start- but he'll let her have her victory.

She's beaten him twice today, but he'll more than make up for that in the Scrabble match he has planned for this evening.


	6. Chapter 6

Lazy Sunday mornings are the best, Kate decides. And this one is one of the best she and Rick have had in a long time.

By a stroke of luck, they both have the day off of work today, so this will be a Sunday full of relaxation, with no pressing matters to take care of and nowhere to go. Neither of them had wanted to get out of bed this morning, so even though they've been awake for about two hours, they're still under the covers, with Kate curled against her husband's chest.

Rick had gotten out of bed long enough to make them both coffee, and grabbed two books off of the shelf when he returned with the steaming mugs. They've been sitting in silence for over an hour, sipping their peppermint coffee and reading, when Rick speaks.

"So I was thinking," he says, setting his book down. "We haven't figured out when we're going to do Christmas with our families. I know we invited my mother to Thanksgiving with your parents, and that was great. But should we do the same thing for Christmas- everyone together?"

Kate closes her book and sets it on the ground beside the mattress, turning to him. "I think we should do two separate Christmases," she says. "It made sense to do Thanksgiving all together, so that your mother didn't have to worry about hosting just the two of us and cooking. And I think she really enjoyed being with my family."

"She did," Rick confirms. "It was always just the two of us for Thanksgiving, and she loved having more people around. She even wants to host everyone at her place next year."

Kate nods. "I think it would be good to do two separate Christmases, though. Because we each have our family Christmas traditions that we grew up with, and… well, I don't know if Martha likes to decorate, but my mom always goes all out, and their apartment looks so festive every year. It's just… special," she trails off. She'd started off strong, but now seems to be unable to explain herself in a way that makes sense. Christmas with her parents has always been a special time- something she looks forward to each year- and while she's ready to share it with Rick, she's not so sure she's ready to add his mother to the mix. Kate loves Martha, but the holiday season has always been a sacred time with family for her. She'll gladly visit his mother with him and spend time with them, but she'd rather that be at a separate time than the visit with her parents.

Rick must understand her reasoning, however badly she may have worded it, because he offers a reassuring smile. "Sounds good to me. We'll need to talk to Mother and your parents about when to come over, then," he says. "Until then, though, we should make some Christmas traditions of our own. Maybe we can do a gingerbread house every year? And snowman bowling should definitely be an annual event," he grins.

Kate knew when she got married that many things in her life would change, and until now, she'd been okay with that, embracing the possibility of changes and new traditions. Now, though, as eager as she is to make new holiday traditions with her husband and incorporate his family traditions with hers, she's not ready for everything to change completely.

"Yeah, those would both be fun things to do every year. But Rick?" she says tentatively. "You know I love you, and I love starting new Christmas traditions with you, but…" she pauses, taking a deep breath. "But I kind of want to keep some of the old traditions of things I did with my family, you know? Blend the old with the new."

"Blend the old with the new," he echoes, smiling. "Absolutely. I agree."

She sighs in relief. "It's just that you've been going out of your way to start new traditions, and to make our first Christmas together so special, and I love it, so much. Really, babe, I do." Kate doesn't understand why she feels the need to assure him of this, or why she's freaking out over the prospect of change. She almost feels like she's betraying him by requesting to retain some of her old family traditions, rather than start all new traditions as a new family.

"Kate, you don't have to defend yourself," her husband says, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her in close to him. "I guess I forget that most people grew up with Christmas traditions, because Mother and I never had too many. Well, she did always put on the Nutcracker for us every year, no matter how tight things were, and that was something that was special for us. But she was often traveling during the Christmas season, doing some show or another, so we don't have too many traditions. I have more memories of watching holiday movies with a babysitter than I do of doing anything with Mother."

"I'm sorry," she says, resting her head on his shoulder. "I never knew that."

"That's one reason I've been doing so much for you the past couple of weeks," he admits. "I never had real Christmas traditions as a kid, so I guess I'm trying to create them now."

Her heart melts as he speaks, and she rests her free hand against his chest, directly over his heart. For someone who could have easily written off the holiday altogether due to a lack of stability, Rick's cheery attitude amazes her.

"So what are some things that your family always does that you'd still like to do?"

"Well, we always went to the Christmas Eve service at church," she muses, stroking her thumb over his chest. "That's something I'd still like to do."

"Mother and I usually went to the midnight Mass," he replies. "I agree, that's a good tradition to keep. What else?"

She laughs tightly, almost ashamed to admit this one to him. "Well, you know how the Hallmark Channel has all of those sappy Christmas movies every holiday season, and they play them twenty-four hours a day?"

"You mean the ones that all have the exact same plot?" Kate lifts her head from his shoulder and looks at him, and he chuckles. "Girl with busy work schedule who has lost sight of the meaning of family and Christmas has to go home, for some reason. Girl meets boy, whom she used to date. Girl and boy fall in love, girl remembers the meaning of Christmas and decides to stay with her family, the end. Nailed it."

Kate gives him a playful nudge in the ribs. "Hey, now, they're not all _that_ predictable… okay, well, maybe they are," she concedes when Rick raises his eyebrows at her. "Anyway, there was always a day that mom and I would curl up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa and white chocolate popcorn and marathon Hallmark Christmas movies all day. It was always something I looked forward to."

"Well, go call your parents, then," he says. "Ask them if we can come over. You and your mom can watch movies all day, and your dad and I can... do some manly things. And maybe I'll even join you for a movie or two."

"Really?" she asks, her eyes lighting up. "I… thanks, babe." Grabbing his face in her hands, she kisses him, long and slow. "I'm gonna go call my parents and see if we can come over."

They arrive at the her parents' home an hour and a half later, and Johanna pulls Kate into a hug as soon as she opens the door. They used to see her parents several times a month, but visits have been rare since Kate started at the academy, and she's come to treasure them even more.

"Come on in, you two! The popcorn is all ready, and I have hot cocoa, too," her mom says with a smile, ushering them in and closing the door behind them. "Rick, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Jim got called into work a few minutes ago with a slight client emergency. He won't be gone too long, but I'm afraid you're stuck watching holiday romance movies with us girls for a while."

"Perfect!" Rick exclaims, beaming as he accepts Johanna's hug. "I love a good romance movie."

Her mother chats with Rick as they walk into the kitchen, asking him about his work and his writing. Kate smiles as she listens to them talk. Her parents have been wonderful with Rick from the day they met him, so eager and gracious in accepting their new son-in-law into the family. He's told Kate several times that he couldn't have possibly asked for better in-laws.

Johanna pours each of them a mug of hot chocolate, adding in a dash of cinnamon and a dollop of cream for added flavor, and they head into the living room, cocoa and bowls of popcorn in hand. Kate sits in the middle of the couch, sandwiched between her mom and her husband, and spreads a blanket across the three of them as her mom grabs the remote to turn on the television. It's already set on the Hallmark channel, and Kate curls into her mother's side as a Christmas movie begins to play.

"Oh, this is a new one," Johanna remarks. "We haven't seen this one before, have we?"

"I don't think so, Mom."

"I bet I can tell you what it's about," Rick chimes, pointing at the screen. "That girl right there is going to fall in love with her high school sweetheart and rediscover the true meaning of Christmas, and…"

"Hush, Rick," Kate says, swatting playfully at his leg. "Don't ruin it for us."

They're halfway through a second movie, mugs and bowls of popcorn both empty, when Jim finally walks in, shucking off his coat and gloves by the door. "Sorry I'm late," he says as he walks into the living room, giving Kate a kiss on top of her head. "Rick, nice to see you," he greets as he walks around to the front of the couch. He holds out his hand, and Rick stands to shake it, smiling.

Her husband grew up without a father, and he relishes every moment he spends with his father-in-law. Kate loves watching the two of them interact, knowing that the affection is mutual, and her father enjoys spending time with his son-in-law, too.

"If you're not too attached to this movie, Rick, I have a couple of things I want to show you in my study," Jim offers.

Her husband agrees, smiling, and turns to Kate, kissing the top of her head. "Enjoy the movie," he says.

"Go do your manly things," she answers, grinning as her father and husband disappear around the corner.

The channel goes to commercials, and Johanna reaches for the remote control to turn the volume down, then turns to Kate. "So tell me, how's everything going with you two?" she asks. "Are you doing okay?"

"Everything's wonderful," Kate answers. "It's hard with my academy schedule and his work schedule, but we're doing great."

"I'm so happy to hear that," her mother replies, giving Kate's hand a gentle squeeze. "I just knew from the moment I met him that he was the one for you, and I'm glad everything's going well between you. Are you doing okay financially?"

"We're making it," she says. "We don't lead a glamorous life or anything, but things are going to get better once I join the force next month."

"And how's his writing? Any news from publishing companies?" Kate heard her mother and Rick discussing this subject before they started the movie, so she knows her mother is asking this for her sake. Her mom, always perceptive, more than likely knows that Rick was putting on a happy face for her when they spoke, and she knows that her daughter will be honest with her.

"Another two rejections this week," Kate answers with a sigh. "He's still waiting to hear back from four more publishers that he's sent manuscripts to. It's hard to see his face fall every time he gets another rejection… I have confidence in him, but I'm afraid that he's starting to lose hope."

"I'm sorry, honey," her mother says, rubbing Kate's shoulder. "I know that has to be difficult, for both of you. I'll be praying that you get a Christmas miracle."

"Me, too," Kate says. "I know it's going to happen sooner or later, but it certainly would be nice if he got a publisher by Christmas."

"Don't give up," Johanna encourages. "Good things come to those who wait. Soon enough, someone's going to realize how talented he is and give him a chance. And I'll be able to tell everyone, 'You know the famous author, Richard Rodgers? That's my son-in-law.'"

She's beaming, already so proud of Rick, and Kate smiles in return, wrapping her arms around her mother's shoulders. Johanna hugs her back, and Kate relaxes into her mother's arms, the familiarity of her mom's embrace causing a flood of homesickness in her chest. Being married to Rick and living with him is better than she could have ever imagined, but she misses seeing her parents all the time.

And three years ago, she never would have said that. Kate had a rebellious side through high school that only grew in intensity once she started college. She'd done her first year at Stanford, eager to get as far away from New York as possible. She hadn't expected to feel completely homesick within the first few months, though, and had transferred to NYU her sophomore year. That's when she'd met Rick, and everything had changed. Being with him made her want to get serious, in a way that lectures from her parents never had before. He'd helped tame her wild side, so to speak, and through him, she's come to appreciate her family even more.

Kate doesn't even want to think about where she'd be in her life if she hadn't met Rick. She misses her parents and their comforting familiarity, of course, but her life is so much happier with her husband in it.


	7. Chapter 7

It's rare that his wife has a weekday off work, but this Tuesday, Kate does. She arrives home just after 4:00, already changed out of her uniform, with a smile on her face.

"Hey, babe," she greets as she shuts and locks the door behind her. "How was your day?"

Rick crosses the apartment to meet her, kissing her on the cheek. "Not bad," he says, helping her out of her coat. "Went to work, came home, got another rejection letter. You know, the usual."

Kate whirls around to face him. "Another rejection letter?" she says, her voice soft.

"Yep. From Newcastle Publishing this time," he says with a nod. "But they're based in LA, so it would have been hard to work with them, anyway. Lots of cross-country flights."

That's not a lie- the distance had been a concern- but the rejection stings regardless. Still, Rick's trying his hardest not to be discouraged. He's holding out hope that he'll receive an acceptance letter from at least one of the three New York-based companies he's approached, so there's still a chance.

Kate wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "One more week until Christmas," she murmurs. "It's not too late to get a miracle."

"Or maybe even two miracles," he answers, circling his hands around her shoulders. "I still haven't gotten the thing I asked Santa for at Macy's."

She raises her head and pulls back to look at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You didn't ask Santa to get a publisher? I figured that's what you wished for."

Rick shakes his head. "Nope. But I'll tell you what I wished for if you tell me what _you_ wished for," he says, grinning.

"No way," Kate says, shaking her head. "That's between me and Santa."

"Then so is mine," Rick replies, kissing her cheek. "Hey, we have a free evening. Wanna go ice skating?"

She smiles, pulling away from him. "Oh, that sounds great! City Ice Pavilion?"

He nods. "It's the closest. And our skates are still in the closet. I found them today while I was cleaning."

Finding their skates today made him realize that it's been over a year since he's hit the ice. In fact, the last time he went was with Kate's family. Jim and Johanna had taken them to the rink at Rockefeller Center to help celebrate their engagement, and all four of them had skated together under the twinkling lights of the 90-foot tree. It's the perfect place to skate at Christmas, and if tickets weren't so expensive, Rick would take Kate there now.

He'll add "skating at the Rockefeller Center" to their list of things to do each year once they have money. Once he gets published.

His wife doesn't mind skating at the local indoor rink, though. "I'll go get changed," she says with a smile as she walks toward the bathroom.

It's a short subway trip to the rink, and they cling to poles as they ride standing in the car, a duffel bag with their skates sitting at Rick's feet. He never minds when the seats are full on the subway- riding standing is an adventure to him. He loves to let go of the pole as the vehicle starts and stops, riding the car like it's a surfboard and seeing if he can maintain his balance. It's a game he's played since he was a kid, and Kate rolls her eyes as she watches him stumble as the car slows at their stop, a tiny grin on her face.

The large rink isn't too crowded this evening, and they're able to easily find a space on the long bench to sit and change into their skates. After Rick stuffs their duffel bag with their shoes into a locker, he and Kate walk hand-in-hand toward the ice, moving awkwardly with the skates on their feet.

Once they step onto the ice, it takes Rick a moment to balance himself, adjusting to moving on the slippery surface. His wife is a natural, though, immediately releasing his hand to zip around the edge of the rink. He's made it a little over halfway around the giant circle, his hand still on the railing, when she comes up behind him, slowing as she approaches.

"I lapped you," she says with a grin, grabbing his hand and falling into pace with him.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, giving her a playful poke in the ribs. "It's just taking me a minute to get my sea legs. I'm getting faster, though."

"I'll stay with you this time," she replies. "I just had to zoom around for a bit. It's fun to go fast."

"I agree; it is," Rick says. "Tell you what. Let's do one lap around the rink together, so that I can finish warming up, and then we can have a race. See which of us is the fastest."

"Sounds good to me," Kate answers, guiding him around a curve. "I hope you realize that I'm going to win, though."

"What, have they been training you in ice skating at the academy, too?" he jokes. "I've skated since I was a kid. We're on equal footing here."

"That is yet to be seen," Kate says with a grin, her eyebrows raised playfully. "Just let me know when you're ready to race. I'll have no mercy."

"And neither will I," Rick replies, quickening his pace for added effect. "You may be the better runner, but I guarantee you that I'm the fastest skater."

"Ha," she scoffs, her cheeks flushed from the cold. "We'll see about that."

They continue the smack talk as they circle the rink together, garnering several strange looks from other skaters as they pass by them. Rick can feel his stability returning as they skate, and by the time they finish their lap, he's fully warmed up. They pause by the entrance to the ice, resting for a moment before they start their race. After Rick ensures that the tips of her skates are not even a fraction of a centimeter ahead of his, Kate counts to three, and they take off.

They skate at the same speed, side by side, until they reach the first curve, when Rick has to slow down slightly to avoid running into two kids, holding hands as they wobble along. Kate looks over her shoulder and sticks her tongue out at him, her pace remaining steady. Determined to catch up with her, Rick hunches down as he skates and curls his hands into fists, using the motion from his arms to push himself forward He catches up with her at the third curve, and when he reaches their makeshift finish line with a full second to spare, he raises his fists in victory, letting out a whoop as she joins him.

"Come on, admit it," he says between breaths, a smile on his face. "I'm the faster skater. Just say it."

"Fine, you beat me this time," she concedes, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But one of us is clearly more out of breath than the other."

It's true- she's breathing easily, whereas he can't seem to stop panting - and he decides to allow her the small victory. His wife thrives on competition; knowing her, she'll probably beat out everyone in her class and speed through the ranks to make detective faster than anyone else. A little ice skating competition is nothing compared to that.

"Oh, whatever," he says with a smile, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him. The maneuver doesn't require as much force on the ice as it does when they're standing on solid ground, a fact that Rick doesn't take into account. Kate zooms into him with tremendous speed, considering the short distance, and crashes into his chest, nearly knocking both of them over.

She cackles, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady herself as best she can as he flails his arms out to the sides, trying to keep himself upright. "Well, that certainly backfired on you," she manages once they've both regained their balance.

"Yeah, it did," he agrees. "Come on, let's just skate. No more races."

They skate for thirty more minutes before they're both too tired to continue. By the time they reach the subway to go home, their legs are trembling from the exercise, and they mutually decide to forgo standing together, instead sinking into the only empty seats they can find. It's not ideal- they're on opposite ends of the car from one another- but it's better than standing.

This stretch of the track is above ground, and Kate stares out the window for the first couple of minutes, watching the city pass by. She periodically sneaks glances and shy smiles across the car at him when she thinks he isn't looking, so when a seat opens up next to Kate after the second stop, he darts across the car as quickly as he can, diving into the chair just as the train begins to move again.

"Hey, you," she says, taking his hand in hers. "I was just thinking- what do you want to do about presents this year?"

"For each other?" Kate nods, and Rick laces their fingers together. "Well, your presence is better than any presents I could ever ask for. Get it?" He grins, proud of his joke.

"Cute," she replies with a smirk. "But seriously, we haven't talked about it. Are we getting each other gifts this year, or not?"

"Of course, Kate," he says, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No matter how tight money is, it's never too tight for me to buy my wife a Christmas present."

She smiles, leaning into him as the car sways to a stop. "I was hoping you'd say that," she starts. "Because I already bought something for you."

"You did? Ooh, what did you get me?" Rick rubs his palms together, wiggling his eyebrows. "Tell me."

Kate stands, rolling her eyes. "Nice try. You'll find out on Christmas."

The train doors open before he gets the chance to reply, and Rick follows his wife out of the car and onto the platform. He grabs her hand as they head toward the staircase, and they walk down the stairs side by side, ignoring the glares of passersby who have to step around them. Kate won't admit it to him, but she's exhausted, her wobbly legs giving her away as she moves down the stairs. He's worn out, too, but he'll gladly hold her hand, rather than the railing.

They step to the side when they reach the bottom of the staircase, then both lean up against the wall with a sigh, too tired to walk any further. "I'd forgotten how tired ice skating makes me," Kate says. "Going down the stairs isn't supposed to be hard, but it was. And we still have to go up five flights to get to our apartment."

"Or we could go get Chinese," Rick suggests. "It's cheap, and we could delay the stair-climbing for a bit."

Kate steps away from the wall and turns to him, grinning. "I like your thinking. Let's get Chinese."

"Maybe while we're there, you can give me a hint as to what my present is," Rick retorts, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. "Come on, Kate. Just one little hint."

"Fine. It fits in a box," she says with a shrug, beginning to walk toward the street.

He pushes off the wall and follows her, grabbing her hand when he catches up with her. "You're so mean," he teases. "Come on, you can give me more than that. Is it alive? What size box does it fit in? A square box? A long, flat box- ooh, did you get me a light saber? Maybe two light sabers, so that we can battle?"

She stops as they reach the crosswalk and turns to face him, taking his other gloved hand in hers. "One present each this year. How does that sound?"

Seeing how serious she looks, Rick stops teasing, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "One present each."

Kate raises herself up on her tiptoes and leans toward him. Just as her lips are about to touch his, he grins. "My gift's gonna be better than yours," he murmurs.

She pulls away immediately, her eyes twinkling. "Oh, yeah? Somehow, I doubt that, considering your track record."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The light changes, and they hustle across the intersection, the Chinese restaurant only a block ahead of them. "Remember what you gave me for my birthday the year we started dating? Biscuits, Rick," Kate says, answering the question for him. "You gave me a box of biscuits."

"Okay, to be fair, we'd only been dating for a month," he says, defending himself. "And you'd just gone on and on to me about how much you loved those Pillsbury biscuits, so I thought…"

"You thought, _Hm, I'll get my girlfriend, whom I've been dating for a month, a box of biscuits for her birthday. That sounds good_ ," Kate mocks, lowering her voice in mimicry of his.

She's grinning, her eyes sparkling. The biscuit debacle is her favorite thing to tease him about; she manages to bring it up every year around her birthday, and it always stays in her back pocket for times like this. He's learned to play along, teasing her by adding Pillsbury biscuits to their grocery list, or suggesting she order a biscuit with her meal when they eat out.

"Okay, so that gift sucked. I've gotten better, though," Rick says. "Remember what I got you for Christmas last year?"

She grins in response, slipping the glove off of her left hand to reveal the simple diamond ring on her finger. "Of course," she murmurs, extending her hand toward him. "Best gift I've ever gotten."

"I can't promise to top that this year," he starts, "but…"

"Rick," she interrupts. "You know I'll love anything you get for me, babe. Right?"

He smiles. "Unless it's biscuits?"

"Unless it's biscuits," she echoes, laughing. "Although biscuits do sound really good right now."

"Probably because you're hungry," he says, pulling the door of the Chinese restaurant open. "Let's eat."


	8. Chapter 8

Kate's been standing in Times Square for nearly ten minutes now, pressed against the wall of a building so as not to be in the way of the thousands of people, mostly tourists, passing by. Like most New Yorkers, she tries to avoid Times Square as much as she can- especially at night, when it's significantly more crowded- but there's a major subway station in the heart of the popular destination, and that's where she's waiting.

She checks her watch for what feels like the hundredth time- it's 6:19- then slips her cell phone out of her purse, reading the text message from her husband once more.

 _Don't come home. Meet outside TS 42nd street station_ _at 6:20._

She'd followed his instructions, heading to Times Square after work instead of going home. They haven't made any plans, so she's not sure what he has up his sleeve. Everything is expensive in this area, and Kate can't imagine what they could be doing here tonight.

She places her phone back in her purse, then looks up to find her husband pushing through the crowd toward her, a flash of red hair trailing close behind him.

"Hey, babe," he greets, kissing her on the cheek as he presses against the wall beside her. "Look who I brought with me."

"Katherine!" Her mother-in-law hurries toward her with a huge smile on her face, enveloping Kate in a hug as soon as she reaches her. "Oh, it's been so long, darling. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, Martha. It's wonderful to see you again."

It's only been three weeks- they spent Thanksgiving with her, after all- but that is a long time, considering that Kate and Rick have been accustomed to seeing Martha at least once a week since they got married. Her mother-in-law has made a habit of inviting herself over, showing up unannounced to chat over dinner, or to scrub their apartment clean from top to bottom to give them time to rest. She's been busy with her latest show, though, and rehearsals have kept her in Manhattan, her schedule too demanding to even invite the two of them over for dinner.

Kate really does love her mother-in-law. The woman is eccentric, full of life and energy, and spending time with her is never boring. Martha can be overbearing at times, but she loves deeply, and is almost like a second mother to Kate.

"Well, my dears, we can catch up as we walk," Martha says, ushering them forward. "But we have to get going. We have dinner reservations at Ellen's Stardust Diner."

"Ellen's?" Rick echoes, incredulous. "They don't take reservations, Mother. And there's always a line halfway down the block."

"Richard, darling, you underestimate me," Martha scoffs. "For Martha Rodgers, they'll do anything. The owner's an old friend."

Kate grabs onto the back of Rick's shirt as they push their way through a crowded intersection, shaking her head slowly. She shouldn't be surprised that her mother-in-law is friends with the owner of the fifties-themed diner, famous for its singing wait staff that puts on a production as they serve. She's only been there once before- for her thirteenth birthday party- and she's thrilled to be going again.

The crowd finally begins to thin as they leave the heart of Times Square, and Kate releases her husband's shirt, doing a little jog to catch up with him and his mother.

"Sorry we had to rush back there, Katherine," Martha says, falling into place beside her. "I didn't get a chance to explain. Dinner is only the prelude to our night tonight. I have tickets for the 8:00 performance of The Nutcracker by the Russian ballet company."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Martha," Kate says, smiling.

"Well, it's a tradition for Richard and I to have a performance of the Nutcracker each holiday season, whether we go to the theatre to watch it, or I put it on as a one-woman show," she trills. "And mind you, I can sing and act with the best of them, but I'll be the first to admit that ballet is not my forte."

"I can vouch for that," Rick murmurs, a sly grin on his face.

"So this is my present to you two," Martha continues, ignoring her son's remark. "Well, this is the big present, at least. I have something small for you both to open when you come visit at Christmas."

"It wouldn't be Christmas without the Nutcracker," Rick says with a smile. "Thank you, Mother."

"You're very welcome," Martha says. "And I think we ought to make a new tradition out of coming to Ellen's for a pre-show dinner, too. That is, if you two are open to that."

Kate wonders for a moment if Rick told his mother about the chat they had last week; about blending the Rodgers and Beckett family traditions with new ones. The look of surprise on his face when she glances up at him makes her quickly dismiss that theory, though. Martha is more perceptive than Rick or Kate often give her credit for. Her mother-in-law is treading lightly; making sure that it's okay with them to add something new, rather than force it on them.

It's a sweet gesture, and Kate can't help but smile.

"Of course we are," husband and wife answer simultaneously.

"Oh, there you two go with that strange 'shared brain' thing again." Martha gives a dismissive wave of her hand and an affectionate sigh as Rick and Kate giggle. "Ah, we're here. I'll poke my head in and let them know."

She disappears into the building, returning moments later with a middle-aged man trailing behind her. "Richard and Katherine, this is John, the owner" she trills, gesturing toward the man. "John, this is my son and daughter-in-law."

"It's wonderful to meet you both," the man says, offering his hand for them to shake. "Have you ever been here before?"

"Not since I was a kid," Kate answers.

Rick nods in agreement. "Same."

"Well, we're happy to have you back with us! You all are in for a treat tonight," John says with a friendly smile, taking Martha's arm. "Follow me."

He leads them into the building, through a maze of tables filled with people, and back to a booth in the corner. They've just settled into the booth, Martha sitting across from Kate and Rick, when their waitress appears, distributing glasses of water to them. She's dressed like Ariel from _The Little Mermaid_ , complete with a bright red wig, and has a bubbly personality to match.

"I've always loved that movie," Kate says with a smile once their waitress disappears. "It came out on my tenth birthday, so for my party that night, my parents took me and three friends to go see it. I swear, I wanted to _be_ Ariel for so long."

"I've always been rather partial to Ariel, as a fellow redhead" Martha says, a dreamy look on her face. "You know, maybe you two will have a red-headed little girl someday."

"Mother!" Rick scolds.

"What? The gene for red hair is in your family, after all," Martha adds, giving a nonchalant shrug. "And is it too much for me to ask to have a grandchild that favors me?"

"You've got to stop dropping hints about wanting grandchildren, Mother," Rick says, annoyance showing in his voice. "We've only been married six months."

"That doesn't mean a thing, darling. It's never too soon to start expanding your family," the woman answers, giving Kate a pointed look.

Unlike earlier, this is classic Martha- overstepping the boundaries into their personal lives - and despite the fact that her mother-in-law's intentions are pure, Kate can feel her face flush. The subject of children is already a touchy one between her and Rick, and the fact that Martha manages to drop a hint about a grandchild every time they see her doesn't help matters any.

Thankfully, Kate and Rick are spared from responding to Martha's latest comment as loud music begins to play throughout the diner. A waiter dressed as Elvis stands on a table in the center of the room, holding a microphone up to his mouth as he sings the opening lines of "One Day More."

"Oh, I just love _Les Miserables_ ," Martha says, clapping her hands in delight. "And the productions at Ellen's are always top-notch. This will be good."

Kate snuggles into Rick's side as their waitress joins in, singing the role of Cosette. Four more members of the wait staff join in, one by one, and by the time the song is finished, Kate's smiling from ear to ear. They all clap enthusiastically when the song ends, and the wait staff climb down from the table, returning to their business.

"That was wonderful," Kate breathes.

"They do things like that all the time here," Martha says. "These waiters and waitresses really ought to be on Broadway; all of them. I've been thinking about starting a studio for people like them. They're extraordinarily talented, but they just need a little extra training before they're ready for Broadway. I could give them some acting lessons. Teach them the most delicate aspects of the craft."

Rick shoots Kate a look as his mother continues talking, and she shakes her head slowly, grinning. Once Martha is on a roll like this, it's next to impossible to get her to stop. They're in for an interesting night.

* * *

They make their way back to the subway station in Times Square after The Nutcracker has ended, laughing and talking the whole way there. Rick claims he has the entirety of the show memorized from having seen it so many times, but it was a new experience for Kate. Every aspect of the production was incredible, from the music to the dancing, and Rick keeps joking about how riveted she was throughout the entire performance, her eyes glued to the stage. Even now, she feels like dancing, the music of the famous waltz playing on repeat in her head.

They hug Martha goodbye once they enter the subway station, thanking her for the wonderful evening, and part ways as her mother-in-law heads for a local Manhattan train, while Rick and Kate follow the signs leading to a Queens-bound train.

Kate leans into Rick's side as they ride, resting her head on his shoulder and allowing her eyes to slip shut. She's exhausted from the long day, but happy nonetheless. It's been a truly magical evening, and she's excited by the prospect of making this into a new Christmas tradition.

Scenes from the ballet begin to play in her mind, and she pictures the dancers twirling around on the stage, moving gracefully to the beautiful orchestration. It takes her a moment to realize that Rick's humming the melody of the waltz, and she opens her eyes and looks up at him, a smile on her face.

"You know, I've seen the Nutcracker almost every year of my life, and it still hasn't lost its magic for me," he says. "I still enjoy it every time I see it. But I think this year was my favorite."

"What, seeing it done by a professional company, instead of by your mother?" Kate jokes, raising her head from his shoulder.

"Well, that certainly helped," Rick hums, offering her a sly grin. "But the thing that made it so amazing this year was sharing it with you."

Despite the fact that he says things like this frequently, the sincerity behind his words never fails to make her heart flutter. He told her the night he proposed that he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with her, and he proves that every day in his willingness to let her in and include her in all of the things that used to be just him.

Kate kisses his cheek. "What do you say we do it again next year?"

He smiles, squeezing her hand. "Sounds like a perfect plan to me."


	9. Chapter 9

Kate has a huge grin on her face when she arrives home after work, her hands filled with grocery store bags. He drops the book he's been reading and rushes to her, pulling the door open wider to give her more space to walk into the apartment.

"You know what today is, babe?" she asks in greeting, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Rick's cheek.

"Um… two days before Christmas?" he guesses, taking some of the bags out of her hands.

"Well, yes," she says with a giggle, following him into the kitchen. "But it's also exactly two weeks before my graduation from the police academy. So I put in my two weeks' notice at Starbucks this evening."

"That's great!" he cheers, giving her a proud smile as he sets the groceries on the countertop. "The end is in sight."

"Yes, finally," she sighs, piling her bags beside his. "And I'm totally done with academy, so no more worrying about classes."

"And you don't have to work the next two days," Rick chimes in, waggling his eyebrows. "You ready for a double dose of Christmas with the families tomorrow?"

Kate laughs, taking a bag filled with cold items to the fridge. "Morning and lunch with your mom; late afternoon and dinner with my parents. It'll be a full day."

"But a good one," he says. "Nothing's better than free food and presents. And are my eyes deceiving me, or is this a tub of frosting I'm holding in my hand?"

"There should be sprinkles and two packages of cookie dough somewhere in those bags, too," Kate adds, shutting the fridge door. "I figured we could make some cookies today. Keep a few for ourselves, and take the rest when we go visit our parents tomorrow."

"I'm good with the whole 'making cookies' idea, but do we really have to share?"

His wife laughs in response, poking him in the side. "I'm going to go change. You preheat the oven, and I'll be right back."

By the time she comes back, wearing one of his white t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants with smiling penguins, he's put the premade dough in a bowl and mashed it all together. She tilts her head in confusion, her lips pursed together.

"Didn't the dough already come pre-cut?"

"Yep. But Christmas cookies can't be just plain circles. That's boring," he insists. "So I combined all of the dough together, and we're going to make our own shapes."

"How are we going to do that without cookie cutters?"

"Easy. Watch and learn from the master," Rick brags. He pulls out a handful of dough and begins to roll it out like a snake on the cookie sheet. He bends the snake into a J-shape and flattens it, then pulls off the excess dough from the bottom, tossing it back into a bowl.

"See, it's a candy cane!" he announces, gesturing to his creation with a flourish that would make his mother proud.

"Not too shabby," Kate says, giving a slow nod of approval. "My turn now."

She grabs a fistful of dough and separates it into three parts. A minute later, a snowman, complete with a top hat and stick arms, sits next to Rick's cookie. He shouldn't be surprised that her cookie is so intricate- his wife is very talented at crafting and drawing. She always claims that she doesn't enjoy "artsy" things, but the proud grin on her face as she admires her cookie tells him just the opposite.

"Hmm, that's pretty good," Rick says, tapping his chin. "Pretty good. But you're not going to win this battle. I've got you beat."

"Since when is this a battle?" Kate asks, sneaking a pinch of dough into her mouth.

"Kate Rodgers, are you doubting my ability to turn everything we do into a contest?" he returns with mock incredulity, putting a hand on his hip for emphasis. "And I saw that, by the way. Stealing bits of dough will cost you one turn… but I suppose this can just be your warning," he falters, intimidated by the glare she's shooting at him.

"Good answer," she says with a nod, the slightest hint of a smirk ghosting at the corners of her mouth. "So you think you've got me beat? Let's see it, then."

"Oh, I don't just _think_ I have you beat. I _know_ I have you beat," Rick grins, pulling a handful of dough out of the bowl. "This is going to be the best cookie ever."

Kate mumbles a word of protest, but he ignores her, flattening his dough into an oval. It would probably be easier to make this cookie if he had a picture in front of him to use as a model, but he can see the image clearly enough in his head that he's confident in his abilities to make everything look perfect.

He takes another pinch of dough from the bowl and forms it into two separate triangles, adding one to each side of the oval, near the bottom. He extends the bottom of the oval with another small piece of dough, flattening it when it seems to be positioned right, then turns to Kate with a grin. "Ta-da!"

She furrows her eyebrows as she stares at the cookie, her index finger tapping on her chin. "I do believe that is the weirdest-looking Christmas tree I've ever seen," she finally manages, a hint of laughter in her voice.

" _Kaaaaaate_ ," he whines, astounded that she doesn't see it. "It's not a Christmas tree! It's obviously a Darth Vader mask."

"Darth Vader?" she repeats, chuckling. "That is _so_ not Darth Vader."

"Is too!"

"It's a Christmas tree," Kate asserts, pulling a kitchen knife out of a drawer. "Here's how you make it into Darth Vader." Before he can stop her, she's taking the knife to his cookie, cutting large eye holes in its center. She carefully pulls out the cut-out circles and tosses them back into the bowl of dough, setting the knife down on the counter. " _Now_ it's Darth Vader."

Rick has to admit, the addition of eyes makes the cookie look significantly better- it clearly looks like the Star Wars character now, and he can see how it might not have before. He won't admit that to Kate, though.

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "How about you make a Christmas tree?"

Twenty minutes later, what Rick deems as the strangest assortment of Christmas cookies ever goes into the oven. Kate, predictably, made all of her cookies into traditional holiday shapes- the snowman, a Christmas tree, a star, an angel, and a Santa hat. Rick opted for more unique shapes, though. Besides Darth Vader, he made a giraffe, an octopus, Patrick Star from Spongebob Squarepants, and something vaguely resembling the state of Texas, crafted from the last remaining bits of dough. They've made twenty-four cookies in all, and no two are alike.

"Mmm, I can't wait for them to be done," Rick says, licking his lips as he peeks into the oven. "How long do they need to bake?"

Kate checks the instructions on one of the packages. "Twelve minutes."

"Twelve minutes," he echoes, raising his eyebrows playfully. "That's just enough time for you to describe, in full detail, what's in that box under the tree with my name on it."

She rolls her eyes as she picks up the bowl and wooden spoon Rick used for the dough, setting them in the sink. "You'll find out in two days. Less than two days, actually."

"Come on, Kate," he whines. "Just one hint."

Rick knows he won't get anything out of her; in fact, he'd prefer for his gift from her to be a surprise on Christmas morning. But he knows that his continued asking for hints will drive Kate crazy, and it's always fun to get a rise out of her.

"Fine. It fits in that box."

"That's the same hint you gave me last time," he says, turning the faucet on to let water fill the bowl. "You have to give me something else."

She pours a healthy amount of dish soap into the bowl, watching as bubbles begin to form under the flow of water. "It would get ruined if it got wet. How's that?"

"Intriguing," he murmurs, scratching his chin. "Very intriguing. Are you sure you didn't get me a light saber? That would be cool, but it would blow our budget out of the water."

She shuts off the water and turns to him, sighing in exasperation. "Rick…"

He recognizes the signs of danger- the hard set of her jaw, coupled with the added tension in her shoulders- and knows he's pushed far enough. Kate usually puts up with his teasing, even plays along most of the time, but for whatever reason, she's not in the mood for it tonight. At least not anymore.

"Babe, I'm just messing with you," he apologizes, resting his hands on his shoulders. "I know I'm going to love whatever you got me."

She offers a weak smile, the tension leaving her body with a slow exhale. "It's just been an interesting day, with putting in my two weeks' notice at Starbucks, and not knowing what job I'll get in the NYPD yet. And just… lots to think about. It all just kind of hit me."

Kate doesn't elaborate, and he doesn't ask her to. His wife doesn't keep secrets from him, but she's not always ready to talk about things immediately. He's learned to give her time, to allow her to have her space to process things on her own terms before sharing them with him.

Rick can make her smile again, though. There's always a way.

He takes a step toward the sink and reaches into the soapy bowl, pulling out a handful of bubbles. Lifting his hand to his chin, he presses the bubbles against his skin, forming a bubble beard. He raises his eyebrows as he reaches into the bowl again, and a small chuckle escapes her as he adds a bubble mustache.

He places his hands at her waist and pulls her in toward him, leaning in close to her face. "You look-a absolutely beautiful," he says in his best Italian accent. "I could just-a kiss you right now."

Kate giggles as he brushes his chin against hers, the bubbles tickling her skin. She tries to squirm out of his grip, but he lifts his head and presses a kiss on her temple, leaving a patch of bubbles on the tip of her nose. He can't help but laugh at the look of surprise on her face, but before he knows it, her shock is melting into a smirk. Quick as a flash, she reaches into the sink behind her and comes out with a handful of bubbles, throwing them at him with a laugh.

"And you say that I'm the one who makes everything into a battle? Kate Rodgers," he starts with a grin, wiping the soap out of his eyes, "you've just declared war."

By the time the egg timer buzzes for the cookies to come out of the oven, the walls, floor, and countertop of the kitchen are covered in soap residue from the handfuls of bubbles that were thrown. Rick and Kate both have traces of bubbles all over them, from head to toe, and they dissolve into laughter as they look at each other.

"Truce?" Kate asks, holding out her hand.

He takes it, shaking it firmly. "Truce."

They both change into fresh clothes while the cookies are cooling, and Kate regales him with tales of her day as they decorate their cookies with icing and sprinkles. By the time they finish, whatever was worrying her earlier seems to be completely gone from her mind. She's relaxed and happy once again, licking the frosting off of her fingers with a grin.

"Tell you what," she says. "Let's only take the Christmas-shaped cookies when we visit family tomorrow. We can keep the fun ones for ourselves."

He lowers his lip in a mock pout. "Kate, are you embarrassed by my cookies?"

"No! Of course not," she assures him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "They're my favorites. And I don't want to share them. I don't want anyone else eating our memories."

"Eating our memories?" Rick repeats, laughing. "You make it sound like our parents are Dementors or something."

"You never know." She raises her eyebrows, the corners of her mouth beginning to turn up. "I mean, I haven't known your mother for all that long… maybe there are a few things about her you haven't told me."

"Very funny," he deadpans, kissing the tip of her nose. "Sure, we can keep the special cookies for ourselves. We'll eat our own memories. Only if I get Darth Vader, though."

"Hey now," Kate says, pulling away from him. "He was a weird Christmas tree before I helped. So we share Vader. Split him in half."

Rick turns around and picks up the cookie in question, breaking it in half. He extends the larger of the two pieces to Kate, grinning. "Deal."


	10. Chapter 10

The final refrain of "Silent Night" from the church organ accompanies Rick, Kate, and her parents as they walk out of the church following the Christmas Eve service. Ever since she was a little girl, Kate has looked forward to the candlelight service each year. There's something comforting about singing carols with the congregation as the flickering light of the candles in their hands adds an ethereal quality to the atmosphere in the sanctuary.

They'd decided that attending church with her parents this year was the best plan, since they would already be with them in the evening. They'll probably go to midnight Mass with Rick's mother next year, but Kate's grateful to have been able to share the service with him this year.

Something cold and wet lands on Kate's nose just as she steps onto the stairs, and she realizes with a start that it's snowing. Despite the fact that snow hadn't been forecasted, large flakes are falling from the sky, and the ground is already dusted in white.

"Rick, it's snowing!" she exclaims, shivering in delight as a few more flakes land on her cheeks.

"I see that," he laughs, brushing snow out of his hair before he puts on his navy toboggan. He'd opened it this morning, when they'd exchanged gifts with Martha, and he was so delighted that he'd hardly taken it off ever since. When he'd finally removed it for the church service, Kate had burst into laughter, attracting the attention of the entire congregation to the unruly mess atop her husband's head. He'd taken it in stride, though, a proud grin on his face as he'd smoothed his hair down.

"The weatherman certainly didn't predict this snow," her father says, placing a hand under his wife's elbow as they descend the front steps. "What a nice Christmas surprise."

"Just like last year," Kate's mother adds, smiling.

Rick freezes with the words, and the congregants filing down the stairs behind them nearly bump into him when he stops. The people grumble as they step around him, continuing down the stairs, and Kate shoots him a quizzical look.

"Babe, you can't stop in the middle of the stairs. Come on," she says, tugging at his hand.

He lets her lead him down the staircase, but stops when they reach bottom, his eyes alight. "Jim, Johanna?" he starts, a smile beginning to form on his lips. "Would you mind heading back without Kate and me? I want to take her for a little walk in the snow."

Johanna smiles, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Of course not, Rick," she says. "Take as long as you need. You can drop by and pick up the things you left at the apartment later tonight. Or any time, really."

Kate looks up at Rick, lips pursed in confusion, but he doesn't offer any explanation for the sudden change in plans. They say goodbye to her parents, then Rick takes her by the hand, leading her down the sidewalk in the opposite direction from which they came.

Kate glances over her shoulder, watching as her parents disappear around the corner behind them, then looks up at Rick. She's confused by his sudden decision to change plans- just an hour ago, he'd been carrying on about how ready he was to go back to the Beckett's apartment, where the brand new laser tag set her parents had given him was waiting. He had declared "impending war, dependent on our arrival back home" on Kate the moment he opened the set. Whatever he had planned must mean more to him than getting to play laser tag.

"What's this all about? Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he says with a smile.

"Come on, Rick. It's cold," she whines. "Can't you at least tell me what we're doing before I freeze to death?"

He laughs in response. "You've got the ear warmer and gloves my mother gave you for Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, they're in my coat pocket."

"Well, put them on, silly," he says. "We aren't going too far. You'll be fine."

She gives an exaggerated sigh, then grins at Rick, pulling her hand from his so that she can pull the new accessories from her coat pocket. It's the first time she's put on the gloves, and the warmth they provide is instant. They're a significant step up from her old, worn gloves, and she makes a mental note to thank Martha again for the gift.

They're in the heart of Manhattan, but the sidewalks aren't crowded the way they usually are. Most of the stores and restaurants closed early for the holiday, and everyone is inside of their homes. Kate imagines parents tucking their children into bed, reading them _The Night Before Christmas_ as they drift off to sleep, eagerly anticipating a visit from Santa Claus.

Someday soon, she and Rick will be doing that very thing. They'll make Christmas so special for their children, providing them with happy memories that will last a lifetime.

"Hey, Kate, I was thinking."

Her husband's words startle her out of her reverie, and she looks up, giving him her full attention. "Hmm?"

"My new name, for when I get published," Rick starts. "What if I change my middle name from Alexander to Edgar, in homage to Edgar Allan Poe?"

"You and Poe," she chuckles. "I swear you'd travel back in time and marry him if you could."

He pokes her in the side. "Hey now. I have a crush on his writing, not on him."

"Uh huh, _suuuuure_."

On their first date, in what Rick claims was "a moment of nerves-induced awkwardness caused by the most beautiful woman in the world sitting across from him," he'd spent an entire ten minutes talking about nothing but Poe. Ever since then, she's teased him about his "man crush" on the poet. He vehemently denies it every time, but the look of ecstasy on his face when he unwrapped a complete anthology of Poe's works from her at Christmas last year was proof enough for her.

It's only fitting that he'd want to change his name to reflect his love for Poe.

"Richard Edgar Rodgers," she muses. "I like it. It's so… sophisticated."

"I think so, too," he nods. "At least, the Richard Edgar part. The Rodgers part is going to change, too."

"Have you decided what you want your new last name to be?"

"No," he sighs. "Every time I think of a good one, I find a reason it won't work. Like King, for example. It would be great, but there can't be two Kings in the fiction world. I've thought about all of the chess terms," he continues. "I just can't manage to get off of the chess theme, apparently."

"Chess," Kate echoes. "Well, what about Queen?"

"That one's out, too," Rick says. "Partly because I want my new last name to be in the first half of the alphabet, and partly because it goes all too well with Stephen King. You can imagine the comments that might be made."

"King and Queen," she says with a giggle. "Yeah, that association would always be there."

"Mmhmm," he nods. "We already know that Rook is out, and I thought about Bishop, but 'Richard Bishop' just doesn't sound good."

"It doesn't flow," Kate agrees. "And I guess Pawn is out, since it's in the latter half of the alphabet?"

"Yep. That, and I don't want to be Richard Pawn. That sounds stupid."

"You'd just be a pawn in the game of fiction," Kate says.

"Exactly," he says. "And I want to be more than that. I need a last name that's sophisticated enough to fit with 'Richard Edgar,' but strong enough to stand on its own."

She takes his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. "You'll think of something, babe," she says. "I know it. Oh, we're going to the bridge, aren't we?"

It had taken her a while, but Kate has finally realized where her husband is taking her. They've just reached the southeast corner of Central Park, and she can see The Pond a few hundred yards away, the beautiful stone bridge over it dusted with snow.

Rick doesn't answer, only smiling in response as he leads her into the park, and Kate feels her heart begin to flutter. He's taking her back to the place where they got engaged last year. The sentiment isn't lost on her at all; it had been snowing just like this that night, too.

They stroll hand-in-hand in silence around the edge of the water, and after a moment Kate tilts her head back, letting the large flakes of snow fall on her face. The ground is already covered in white, and icicles are forming on the leaves on trees and bushes, while the edges of the water glisten with ice. Growing up in the city, with concrete and pavement in place of trees and grass, Kate has come to appreciate the beauty of nature. Central Park is one of her favorite places in the city for that reason, but it's even more beautiful covered in snow.

They stop walking once they reach the center of Gapstow Bridge, and Rick turns to her, taking both of her hands in his. "I've been thinking about this all day," he says, his voice reverent. "And when it started snowing after the service, I just knew we had to come back here. It's just like it was..."

He trails off, and Kate smiles. "One year ago," she finishes for him. "Exactly one year ago, in this very spot."

"One of the best days of my life," he murmurs.

"Mine, too," she agrees, squeezing his hands. "I can't believe it's been a full year."

"The best year I've ever had," Rick says. "I didn't know what my life was missing until you became a part of it."

She instantly recognizes the phrase as one he used in his wedding vows. They'd each written their own, and the sweetness of Rick's words had all but reduced Kate to tears at the altar. Even now, she can feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes at the memory.

Kate grins through her tears and raises herself up on her tiptoes, leaning towards him. "I couldn't have said it any better myself," she whispers, pressing her forehead against his. "And you know what? I think it's only going to get better from here."

He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her into him. "I agree," he breathes.

Snow continues to fall as they share a kiss in the middle of the bridge, a peaceful silence settling around them with every passing second. Despite the chill in the air, Kate feels warm inside, content in a way she'd never thought possible before being with Rick.

It really has been the best year of her life.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** There will be one final chapter after this, followed by an epilogue. Thank you for all of your support with my ficathon venture!_


	11. Chapter 11

Soft light is streaming through the windows when Rick wakes on Christmas morning, and there's a peaceful stillness in the air. He loves the calm and tranquility that comes with the holiday, the warmth of home, and even the sweet, tantalizing smell of cinnamon rolls that has his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

Wait, cinnamon rolls?

He sits up with a start. Sure enough, the spot on the mattress beside him is empty, and the kitchen light is on. Kate must have gotten up early to make him breakfast. The gesture is sweet, but he had been planning to do that very thing for her. A quick glance at his watch tells him that it isn't even 6:30 AM yet- his wife must have gotten out of bed extremely early to get the jump on him.

Rick slides off the bed and slips his feet into his house shoes before padding across the room to the kitchen area. He finds Kate peering into the open oven, a faded blue oven mitt on her hand. When she hears him approaching, she turns around and smiles at him, closing the oven door.

"Hey, babe," she greets. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't wake me. That amazing smell did," he answers around a yawn. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," she murmurs. "So I figured I might as well get up and make us breakfast."

"From a tube," he says with a smile, picking up the empty Pillsbury container from the counter.

"You know me and cooking," Kate says, shaking her head slowly. "But whether they're pre-made or not, cinnamon rolls are always delicious."

"I'm just messing with you, Kate," he laughs, tossing the tube aside so that he can wrap his arms around her waist. He pulls her into him, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Merry Christmas, Wife."

"Merry Christmas, Husband," she returns, smiling. "Coffee should be ready. You can pour it while I get the cinnamon rolls out."

Kate doesn't say much while they eat, which is nothing unusual. She's never much of a talker in the mornings, but given how excited she has been for Christmas, he figured this morning would be an exception. Instead she's silent, staring out the window at the snow-covered trees as she sips her coffee.

Normally, he wouldn't think anything of it, but today, he's worried. He can almost see the cloud of anxiety hanging over her head. That, coupled with the tension in her shoulders and the way she periodically sighs, tells him she has something on her mind, but he won't press.

His suggestion that they exchange gifts finally elicits a smile from Kate, and they leave their dishes on the table, settling on the floor in front of the tree. He pulls out the two small boxes that sit underneath and passes one to his wife. She purses her lips as she looks at it, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know this is my gift to you, right?" she asks, holding it up. "The one that you've been staring at for over a week now?"

"I know," Rick says with a grin. "And the one that I have is mine to you. It doesn't count as a gift exchange if we don't actually exchange gifts."

She rolls her eyes at him, but grins in spite of herself as they trade presents. "There. Now it's official."

"Absolutely. Now tell me, what's the one thing you're the most thankful for this year?"

Kate tilts her head to the side. "Hmm?"

"It's something Mother and I always did every year," Rick explains. "Before we opened presents on Christmas morning, we named the one thing we've been the most grateful for over the past year."

As a kid, he'd hated the tradition, too eager to tear into the presents from Santa to take a moment to talk about the year's blessings with his mother. And, as was typical for Martha, she wouldn't accept a flippant answer- she had forced him to construct a thoughtful response, and explain why the chosen moment was what he was the most thankful for that year. By age eight, he'd finally learned to think about his answer in advance, so that he could get the moment of sentiment out of the way in order to open his gifts sooner.

But the older Rick got, the more he came to appreciate the tradition. The past several years, he and his mother have laughed, talked, and reminisced for over an hour before finally opening their first gifts. It's a good way to stop and refocus on the true meaning of the holiday, putting aside the consumerism and materialism that the world tends to focus on.

His elementary school self would kick him for saying this, but he doesn't want to let the tradition go. He wants to carry it on with Kate, and their children someday.

"Oh, that's sweet," Kate says with a smile. "And the answer to that question is easy. The thing I'm most grateful for this year is having you in my life."

The effortless way in which she says the words causes his heart to melt. "You took the words right out of my mouth," he says, leaning toward her to kiss her forehead. "You're the biggest blessing in my life this year, too."

"Six months of being engaged, and six months of being your wife," Kate says. "I loved being engaged, but I have to admit, the year got even better after June 28."

"Absolutely," he agrees. "And I know that you- we- have had to sacrifice a lot since we got married, with our jobs, and academy for you, and not having much money, but…"

"None of that matters to me, Rick," she interrupts, taking his hand and squeezing it. "We could live in a cardboard box out on the street, and I'd still be happy, because I was sharing the box with you."

The sentiment is so sweet that he can't help but tug his wife in for a kiss. Kate pulls back with a start shortly after their lips touch, and he realizes that the movement has pushed the corner of her box into her stomach. She grins as she rearranges the present in her lap.

"So, speaking of sharing boxes…"

Rick chuckles. "Hint taken, Mrs. Rodgers. Okay, enough of this mushy-gushy stuff; it's present time. Ladies first," he says, nodding toward her.

She runs her finger underneath the flap at one edge and begins carefully unfolding the paper once the tape is loose. Kate's always been meticulous about opening her gifts, removing the paper as if it were every bit as important as the gift inside. It drives Rick crazy- he's always impatient to see the look on her face when she sees his gift- but he forces himself to sit and wait, knowing her reaction will be worth it.

Sure enough, Kate squeals in delight when she pulls a complete anthology of Emily Dickinson's poetry out of the box. She's still holding it in her hand as she throws her arms around his neck. "I love Emily Dickinson! Thank you!" she exclaims. "But Rick, this is expensive. You shouldn't have."

"Nothing is too expensive for my beautiful wife," he says with a laugh as she pulls away from him, opening her book to the table of contents. "Besides, I got it from the bookstore with my employee discount."

"Shh, you're not supposed to share your trade secrets with me," she teases, running her finger down the page. "Wow, this seriously has everything. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. And I have a guess as to what you'll be doing for the rest of the day."

"Oh, you'd better believe I'm going to dive into this." She smiles, setting the book on the ground beside her. "Okay, your turn."

Unlike Kate, Rick rips the paper off of his package as quickly as he can, tossing it to the side with a dramatic flourish that makes her giggle. He pulls the lid off of the box and unfolds the tissue paper inside, unearthing a beautiful black Moleskine notebook and a calligraphy pen, a bottle of black ink carefully nestled in the corner.

"It's a new notebook for you to write in," Kate explains. "And I know you've been wanting a calligraphy pen, too."

"Kate, wow," he breathes. "How did you know?"

"I talked to your boss," she admits, a shy smile on her face. "He said you'd been eying those notebooks for quite some time. And he helped me find a store where I could get a good pen."

"This is perfect!" he says as he sets the box on the floor in front of him, leaning over it to steal a kiss. "Seriously perfect. Thank you so much. I'm going to play with this pen all afternoon."

"You're welcome." The smile fades from her face a second later, and she presses her lips together as the earlier tension returns to her body. "I, um… I know we said only one gift each, but I actually have another one for you."

So this is what she's nervous about? Rick wants to laugh, but tamps down his amusement, offering Kate a reassuring smile. "That's convenient, because I have another one for you, too," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm not mad. I guess neither of us can follow the rules very well."

The corners of her mouth turn up slightly, and she lets out a slow breath. "I guess we'd better go get them, then."

He helps her to her feet, and she walks toward the kitchen- an odd place to hide a gift, he thinks- as he heads for their bed. He's stashed his gift under the corner of the mattress, and he pulls it out, arriving back at the tree just as she does.

"I love that we both had secret gifts for each other," he starts, glancing at the small box in her hands. "Great minds think alike."

"Yeah," she chuckles. "Where did you hide yours?"

"Under the mattress," he says. "It was easy, since it's just an envelope. What about you?"

"In a pot we rarely use in one of the kitchen cabinets. I was so worried you would decide to cook something and pick that pot, then find this."

"And I was worried you'd move the mattress while cleaning and find this," he says, laughing. "I guess we're both lucky, then. Want me to go first this time?"

Kate nods, but before he can to tear into the package, she stops him, placing her hand on his. "Rick," she starts, her voice quiet. "Before you open this, I…"

She pauses, her breath caught in her throat, and he realizes that her hands are shaking. He can't imagine what could be wrapped in this tiny box that's causing her so much anxiety.

"I don't know what you're going to think," she finishes with a sigh. "I want you to like it, but…"

"Kate," he interrupts, lacing his fingers through hers. "You don't need to be nervous. Whatever this is, I know I'm going to love it. Unless it's a dead lizard."

That elicits a small smile from her, and she reluctantly pulls her hand back, giving a nod to indicate that he should open the package. Rick removes the paper carefully this time, flashing her a reassuring smile as he drops it on the floor. His lips quirk when he notices that she has painted the small box black, hiding whatever writing may have been on it. He opens the flap at the end of the box, tilting it toward his hand, and a small white stick drops into his palm. It looks like a thermometer, but as he lifts it to his eyes to study it, he sees it's a pregnancy test - with two pink lines etched onto the tiny screen.

If he's not mistaken, that means the test is positive.

Rick's eyes widen as her gift's meaning sinks in, and he's suddenly unable to breathe, his heart pounding in his chest. "Tha- that's not a dead lizard," he finally manages, his voice hushed.

 _Oh, smooth, Rick. Really smooth._

"Before you say anything else," Kate starts, her voice little more than a quiet squeak. "I know we weren't planning on having kids for a while, and that we can't afford a kid right now. But I'll have a full time job with the NYPD, so that will give us extra money. It probably still won't be enough, but it'll be okay. We can reduce our payments on our student loans for the next year, too. And yeah, I don't know what job I'll have with the police, since a pregnant cop can't exactly do much, but…"

The word "pregnant" finally snaps Rick out of his trance. He shuts his mouth and looks up from the test in his hand, finding his wife watching him with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Kate," he says, his heart melting. He touches a hand to her cheek, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "Honey, this is… amazing. This is incredible. You're really pregnant?"

She nods as the tears begin to spill out of her eyes. "The timing is awful, I know, but…"

"The timing is perfect, babe," he interrupts, chuckling. "It couldn't be any more perfect. Look at this."

Much as Rick wants to tear into the envelope himself, he passes it to his wife, allowing her to study it. When Kate reads the writing on the front, her eyes widen. "Is this…?"

"Open it," he urges, grinning.

Wiping away the last of her tears, Kate flips the envelope over and begins to open it. She works slowly, almost reverently, as if she were holding a precious jewel in her hands. She's even holding her breath- it's as though she's afraid to get her hopes up again.

It dawns on him that she's suffered through every rejection letter with him, and that she has shared the sadness he's felt with each one. She's been so supportive in the process of trying to find a publisher that he hasn't realized how invested she is. She wasn't joking when they said that they were a team, that they were in this together, and he loves her even more for it.

Kate pulls the piece of paper out and gingerly unfolds it. "'Dear Mr. Rodgers," she reads, her voice quiet. "Thank you for submitting your manuscript _In a Hail of Bullets_. We are happy to…' oh my God!" She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

Rick laughs. "Go on."

"'We are happy to accept your request for publishing. We are certain that this novel will be a hit, and cannot wait to see more works from you. I will be contacting you in the next five to seven business days with more information. Sincerely, Gina Cowell, Black Pawn Publishing.' Rick!"

Kate squeals and drops the letter, throwing herself into his arms. "Rick, this is incredible," she breathes. "You did it! I knew you could do it! Oh, wow. I'm so happy for you." Her voice is thick with emotion, and she pulls away slightly, looking up at him. "And I was so worried about the timing of the baby."

"Oh, Kate." He moves a hand to the back of her head, pressing her cheek against his chest. "I hate that you were stressed. I figured the letter could be a Christmas surprise, but if I had known, I would have told you about it when it came in the mail two days ago."

"Two days ago?" Kate pulls herself out of his arms, her eyes wide. "That's when I took the test!"

"What a coincidence! We've both been hiding something from each other," Rick says. "The letter came in the afternoon mail, while you were at work. What made you take the test that day?"

"I'd been suspecting it for a couple of days, so I bought the test when I went to the grocery store," she says. "I took it when I went to change clothes before we made cookies."

"So _that's_ why it took you so long to change," he muses as the pieces fall into place. "And that's why you got so stressed when I mentioned our budget. I get it now."

"And I understand now why you've been so unusually cheery the past couple of days."

Rick reaches for her and pulls her in, and she leans into the embrace, sinking her head into his chest. He rubs his hand between her shoulder blades and can feel her sag in relief as the weight is lifted from her shoulders. They stay that was for a long time, letting the shock of adrenaline from their news wear off. When Kate finally pulls away from him, she has a smile on her face. She giggles, giddy with excitement, and he laughs with her.

"This calls for more coffee," she manages between chuckles, scooping up both of their coffee cups and heading for the kitchen.

She returns a moment later and passes a steaming mug to him, then sits down in front of the tree, cross-legged, smiling up at Rick. He follows suit and sits down beside her, placing an arm behind her back to support her. She probably shouldn't be sitting on the floor like this, but he'll let it slide for now. After all, there really isn't anywhere else to sit.

A rocking chair. That'll be their first big purchase, when they get their paychecks from their new jobs. It will be good for Kate both before and after the baby arrives, and until they move, they can put it here, where the Christmas tree currently sits.

Their tree is still just as pathetic as it was the day they got it, if not more so- its branches have started to droop, and there are faint hints of brown on the edges of the needles. Despite that, though, it's still bright and festive, the ornaments and popcorn-cranberry garlands adding splashes of color. He'd made sure to take plenty of pictures of it yesterday with the brand new digital camera the Becketts had given them for Christmas.

"You know, it's sad that we're going to have to throw this tree away soon," Kate says, releasing a wistful sigh. "I've kind of gotten attached to it."

"Me, too," Rick agrees, taking a sip of his coffee. "But we got plenty of pictures last night."

"Yeah." She smiles. "I think the one you took of us kissing in front of the tree is my favorite."

"Me, too. But the one of me standing beside it is a close second," he says. "I'm twice as tall as it is."

Kate laughs. "I'm going to miss this tree, but next year, we won't have to get a three-foot-tall wimpy tree. We can get a real one- one that's actually taller than you."

"And we can put it in our new apartment," Rick adds. "One with two real bedrooms- one for us, and one for the baby."

"Two bedrooms," Kate sighs, a dreamy look on her face. "God, that will be like a castle compared to this place."

"A castle," he echoes. "Our own little castle in the city… wait!"

An idea strikes him- one so obvious he can't believe he hasn't thought of it before- and he slaps himself on the forehead with his palm.

"What?" Kate's voice is filled with concern, and Rick laughs, shaking his head slowly.

"Castle," he says. "I've been trying to think of a name for months, and I managed to go through all possible chess terms except for that one. It's not the proper name of a piece, so maybe that's why I didn't even think of it until now."

Kate stares at him, her brow furrowed, lips pursed together and head tilted to the side in contemplation. "Richard Castle," she says, testing the name out.

"Richard Edgar Castle." The name feels good on his tongue; it's powerful, yet simple. He'll be the only "Castle" in the world of literature. He'll stand out.

Kate must agree, because her eyes light up as he says the name, and she grins. "It's perfect," she whispers, tears beginning to prick at her eyes again.

"Kate, babe." Rick immediately moves toward her, concerned, cupping her face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

She sniffs, blinking rapidly as the tears begin to fall. "It's just s-so perfect," she stammers, her voice choked with emotion. "So p-perfect."

His concern melts away as he realizes why Kate's crying, and he lets out a giddy laugh, brushing the tears from her cheek. "And you're hormonal. Oh my God, Kate, we're going to have a baby. We're going to be parents."

"And you're going to be a published author," she adds, smiling through her tears. "I can't believe my wish came true so quickly. Before Christmas, even."

"Your wish?" he asks, his eyes widening. "Is that what you asked Santa when we were at Macy's? For me to get published?"

Kate nods, taking his hands in hers. "It's all I really wanted. I knew how much it meant to you."

"To both of us," he corrects. "But there was something more important to me than getting published. And I got my wish, too. Well, I guess technically, I won't get it for another few months, but…"

"A baby?" Kate interrupts, her eyes lighting up. "You wished for a baby? Oh!"

The tears are streaming down her cheeks again, despite the grin on her face, and Rick chuckles as he pulls her into his side, enveloping her in an embrace.

"This is the best Christmas ever," she whispers a moment later, sniffling.

"I agree," Rick says. "But you know what? I think the best is yet to come."

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** Look, it's Christmas in April. :) _

_And with that, this Winter Ficathon story is now complete! This is my first multi-chapter story to actually finish, and I'm excited that I've finally done so. Am I a real writer now?_

 _First and foremost, thanks so much to my wonderful beta, Cathey. She's done so much for this story, and she is wonderful! Thanks also to Jill and Jo for their promotions with the Ficathon, to Ellie for making suggestions throughout the story. Finally, thanks to all of you readers who stuck with me throughout this story, even when I continued posting long after Christmas was over. Your reviews mean a lot to me!_

 _This is the "official" final chapter, but there is an epilogue to come soon. The story will not be marked as complete until it is published._

 _Thanks again, everyone! This has been fun!_


	12. Epilogue

**One year later**

* * *

Rick tiptoes through the apartment in the dark, feeling his way to the kitchen. It's early, and he doesn't want to wake Kate just yet. She was up with the baby three times last night, so he's making coffee and breakfast while she sleeps in.

The baby is still asleep, too, so the apartment is quiet, and pleasantly peaceful. The city is just beginning to awaken, and he opens the living room curtains, gazing at the rising sun peeking through the buildings of the lower Manhattan skyline. He misses the view of the park from their old apartment, but even after living here for nearly six months, the thrill of the new view hasn't gone away.

With Beckett's new job in the police force and his own royalty checks from his novel, they were able to afford to move when their lease on their old place was up in June. The new place is quite a step up from the old one- a two-bedroom, one bathroom apartment in Brooklyn Heights. It's one of the cheapest and smallest in the affluent neighborhood, but for now, it's perfect for their little family.

Rick makes banana pancakes- Kate's favorite- while the coffee's brewing. He's just taken the last of them off of the griddle when his wife shuffles into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, cradling their daughter in her arms.

"Hey, you two," Rick greets, kissing Kate's cheek. "How are my favorite girls?"

"Good," Kate murmurs, looking down at the baby. "I peeked in her room when I woke up, and she was wide awake."

"Of course she was," Rick says, holding out his arms. Kate passes him the baby, and his daughter nuzzles into his chest, letting out a contented sigh. She's a daddy's girl through and through, a fact that even Kate will readily admit. No matter how upset the baby is, Rick is always able to calm her or lull her to sleep.

Or maybe he's just a baby whisperer.

"I thought she'd be better at sleeping through the night by now," Kate says with a yawn, heading for the coffeemaker. "She's three and a half months old."

"She just likes to be awake," Rick coos, gently touching the baby's nose. "If you sleep too much, you miss all the fun stuff that happens in the world."

"At this point, I'd rather miss all the fun stuff," Kate says around a yawn. "Mom warned me that I wouldn't sleep much with a newborn, but I never imagined being _this_ tired."

"Well, it may not be just the newborn," Rick says, passing the infant back to Kate. "This hasn't exactly been an easy year for our family."

Kate nods, a grim look on her face as she begins to strap the baby into her bouncy seat that she loves so much.

In January, Kate's mother had miraculously survived an attempt to take her life by a mystery killer. She'd been stabbed multiple times by what looked to be a professional hitman and left in an alley to die. A random passerby that happened upon her called an ambulance, keeping pressure on the worst of the wounds until the paramedics arrived. In an odd coincidence, the same passerby that saved her mother's life is the medical examiner for the precinct where Kate had just begun to work. His wife and Lanie have become fast friends over the past year.

Kate often says she owes her new friend everything, and Rick can't help but agree. He's seen how Kate has come to the brink of destroying her own life by pouring herself wholeheartedly into finding the man who had attacked her mother, and he can't imagine how she'd be doing if Johanna hadn't survived.

Johanna is wheelchair-bound now, paralyzed from the waist down due to one of her stab wounds hitting a crucial nerve. Rick knows it's hard on his wife to see her mother like that, knowing that their daughter will never know Johanna as she was, but they're both grateful that she's alive.

"So," Rick says a moment later, his voice filled with forced joviality. "I made pancakes."

"Banana," Kate says with a small smile, straightening and moving toward the table. She seems to appreciate the change of subject. "Thanks."

The card table wobbles under the weight of the plate filled with pancakes as Rick sets it down. They haven't bought a proper table yet- after purchasing the apartment, a real bed, a sofa, and all of the things for the baby, there isn't enough left in their budget for anything else at the moment. Rick is oddly attached to the card table, though. It's a reminder of how far they've come in the past year.

Kate murmurs an apology to the table when she drops syrup across it, laughing as she begins to wipe it up with a napkin. "I'm talking to the furniture. I must be insane."

"Or just tired," Rick counters. "But I'm sure Old Faithful appreciates the apology."

"This table really has been through a lot," Kate says. "Two apartments, lots of meals…"

"The occasional baby changing station," Rick adds.

"Making a gingerbread house…"

"Ooh, and the sugar cookies last year! My Vader was the best."

"You're kidding, right?"

They continue the playful banter as they finish breakfast, only stopping when Kate scoops up the baby to get her dressed for the day's outing. They've been planning this since last Christmas, the day Kate told Rick she was pregnant. The year seemed to pass slowly and fly by with lightning speed all at the same time, and Rick is excited that the day is finally here.

After bundling up, Kate places the baby into her carrier, holding her gently as Rick straps the carrier over Kate's chest. Kate prefers to wear their daughter when they go outside of Brooklyn, because changing trains with a stroller is a huge hassle. It's good to share body heat with the tiny girl, too, and Rick is always eager to take a turn when Kate's shoulders and back begin to ache from the weight.

Unsurprisingly, Kate doesn't ask him to take the baby once they reach Manhattan, instead snuggling the tiny girl even closer to her chest as they step out of the subway into the chilly December air. The rocking of the subway car lulled the baby to sleep, and she lets out a tiny sigh as he covers her with a fuzzy pink blanket.

Hundreds of people crowd the Midtown sidewalks, with annoyed New Yorkers bustling around the tourists that stop to admire the city's Christmas decorations. They're nothing new to Rick and Kate, but even so, they take their time as they walk, peeking into store windows and admiring the holiday displays as they pass. Somehow, the wonder of the season is even greater for them after their daughter's birth. Even though _she_ won't remember this Christmas, they want to soak up every bit of it.

They finally make it to Macy's, grinning in tandem as they step down the familiar path leading to Santaland. The line is long, but not too long, and Rick certainly doesn't mind waiting.

"Want me to take her?" Kate's rolling her neck around, raising her shoulders as she tries to relax.

"I'm good." She smiles. "I may let you have her after we see Santa, though."

"Should we wake her once we get up there? I'd hate for her to sleep through her first meeting with Santa."

Kate laughs. "Babe, she won't remember this either way. You know that."

"I know," he acquiesces. "But it's the whole sentiment of the thing, you know?"

Kate nudges him forward as the line begins to move, her hand pressing gently at his back. "I know. I don't want her to miss it, either. I'm just afraid that if she wakes up, she'll be hungry, and she'll be grumpy for Santa."

"Makes sense."

They settle into a comfortable silence for several minutes, despite the buzzing of the room around them. The dozens of children in the room are eager to see Santa, the thrill of anticipation filling the air. Some of the kids are so excited that they are filled with energy, screaming and running around, and Rick watches as one mother has to chase after her young son for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"I'm starting to feel grateful that ours is asleep," he says, nodding toward the young mother ahead of them, and Kate chuckles in agreement.

They finally reach Santa, and as they draw closer, Rick realizes that it's the same man as last year sitting before them. The twinkle in the older man's eye is instantly recognizable, and Rick shares a grin with Kate. She must recognize him, too.

"Ho ho!" Santa greets as they approach. Unlike last year, Rick doesn't rush to the man's lap, instead gently lifting their daughter out of her carrier and passing him to Santa's waiting arms.

"Hello, little one!" he coos, running a gloved finger across her cheek. "What's your name?"

"This is Macy," Kate answers.

"She's beautiful," the man says with a smile. "And an appropriate name, too."

"We did name her after the store, actually," Rick admits. "I asked Santa Claus for a baby last year, right in this very room," he says with a wink. "And when we found out Kate was expecting, we just knew we had to name her Macy."

Santa's eyes widen at that. "I think I remember you two! You asked for a baby, and you," he says, turning to Kate, "asked for your husband to… get published as an author? Is that correct?"

"Yes sir," Kate says softly, stepping toward Santa's chair.

"Well, I see that one of your wishes came true," he says, giving a jolly laugh. "And the other? Did you get published?"

"That I did," Rick says, his voice filled with pride. "I even got a deal for more books to create a series."

"That's wonderful!" Santa says with a mischievous grin. "I'll have my elves be on the lookout for more of your books. Oh, I think we woke her up."

Sure enough, Macy is awake, her deep blue eyes staring up at the man holding her. She's completely calm, nestled in the man's arms, and lets out a small sigh of content.

"You certainly have charmed her," Rick laughs. "You must have a way with babies."

"I've been told as much," Santa says. "What would Macy like for Christmas?"

Rick turns to Kate, who smiles, stepping forward to squeeze her husband's hand.

"I think we have everything we need this year," she says, her voice soft. "Except… a picture with Santa."

"Ho ho!" Santa laughs. "I can certainly grant that wish."

Rick and Kate step aside as Santa positions their daughter in his arms, adjusting her glittery red hair bow before the photographer snaps the picture. He motions for them to join after the first photo. "A family photo," he says, patting his lap with his free hand for Kate to sit down. "So that you can look back one day and see how good this past year was too you."

"It certainly has been," Rick says, smiling at Kate. "And I think it can only get better from here."


End file.
